Words Poem by Chris Townsend

Technicolor, feelings a spectrum of tears,
As all through this eternity, so many years,
Forgive me as I can be only true,
A figment of your imagination, mirrored you,
Squeal out an emotional holocaust, a time for two,
As within my warm embrace, a picture of you,
Don’t ask me to resolve all the things I feel and know,
As within this puzzle, a small seed to grow,
Distance is merely two points in space,
A sad little boy, get me out of this place,
Take me by the hand, hold my head in your lap,
As I put two and two together and come up with only things I lack,
Confidence, a poison, takes me to my cell,
Don’t tell me how bad it can get, I am already in hell,
If you want to do something, to make it a better place,
Let me move my hands that hide my human face,
For if you look really closely, a painters subject still,
You will not see, a passion, a force, a boy so ill,
I scream at you let me be free,
The words encapsulate, they tangle me,