Who Am I?

Where am I?

I woke up in
A gray world,
Devoid of colour,
Devoid of life and
I, I was devoid
Of identity.

At first,
I searched the space
In which I inhabited,
Four walls spoke
Nothing of the time
Or place, date or land.
But a door led to
Somewhere.

Somewhere was
An old house
Where people once
Lived. He was
A scientist and
She was a writer,
And they had
No children,
Just dreams.

Dreams of changing
The world,
Dreams of keeping
A record of
The world but these
Dreams remained
Dreams locked in
An old house.

On surfaces,
I found words
And formulae,
And thoughts and
Concepts unfinished.

In the air,
I found harsh words,
Angry words and
Hints of regret.
And these regrets fed
The words that were
Spat into the air.

Looking out a window,
I could see that
What lay beyond
This room, this house
Was no different from
What lay within.

I sat at a table,
Now not caring to
Know where I was.
In a way,
It didn't matter.

In a world so dismal
It didn't matter
Where I was,
It only mattered
Who I was an
What I was going
To do with my reality.

Sitting in an old
House filled with
Unfulfilled dreams,
Incomplete thoughts,
Angry, regret fueled words,
I decided on
Who I was going to be.

One thing I knew
For sure, I was
Going to be the colour
In a world satisfied
With being devoid of it.
I was going to be
The life.



Better late than never. This poem was inspired by a photo prompt from my friend Michelle Toussaint's blog, Random Michelle. Click here to check out her blog and be sure to check out her book, Now Taking A Lover, which is available as an ebook and a print book.