WHITE ROOM
A room so pure and white
walls that hold secrets and lies
a place where sleep is deprive
agony present in their eyes.
I went there
a place you wouldn\'t want to be near
hallways filled with unpleasant memories
covered with lost souls bounded by stories.
I met a stranger dress in white
smiling with a face so bright
sit and tell me your story, he mutter
well take a look in my head, I whisper.
Weekly, he became a habit
stranger become friends
walls crumbling, ice melting
emotions surfacing.
We talked about anything
anything turns to something
he told me to write
a pieces of poem every night.
Got three readers whom I trust
soul filled words of my past
he read my words the first time
and said, you\'re an art with poetry inside.
Today, I\'ll meet him again
the white room\'s waiting
a friend in white\'s waving
he said, hey! want some coffee?