THIS ROOM Poem, by Thomas J. Dooley, at My poetic side

All I need is another call from you

Doesn't matter how many minutes we use

Need to hear the sound of your voice to soothe

What more is there for me to do

This room alone again

The walls have become my best friends

Late into the night, we have conversations.

Conversations alone with these walls

Echoing in mind, deep in the halls

I say their color is beige, and they say their tan

Arguing with a wall does not make me a crazy man

This room deep in my mind

Trying to master my thoughts

So many secrets, if these walls could talk.

If they told the truth, I would say that's a lie.

But where else is there for me to hide

As night comes outside, I close my eyes.

Outside these walls is where my dreams float high.