Corridors lead on through whitewashed walls.
Lead me on down your narrowing partitions,
Funneling me to some creative full stop.
Channelled into straight lined thoughts.
Where is my creative brain.
My thoughts and ideas?
Shut away in the darkness…
Hidden behind locked doors….
Cat hidden in dusty shadow. Lost to the World.
You were smart and neat once, now slightly chipped and nicked.
No longer on display, but hidden in a corner .
Spotted paint is scuffed, dots are faded,
But you can’t leave, you are an old friend .
Will you ever see the light of day, no sign of your return to favour.
Fold yourself into the corner, stay stray until you are called back. Home.