by Dominic Bilverstone aged 16

A lonely man filled with hate and anguish
entered the room where stood a little boy and a table.
The little boy placed memories upon the table,
memories filled with hatred and anger.
He put the sounds of lonesome cries there.
The boy placed half-smoked cigarettes upon the table.
He placed the rotten smell of whisky on the table.
He placed the desperate cries of his mum there.
On the table he placed the dim candle burning with
the last of its wax.
He feels like no one understands him,
he is unheard,
he is unfelt.
He placed the feelings of invisibility on the table:
No one understands,
No one talks to him.
He placed on the table tattered clothes,
dirty clothes.
He put on the table unused water and the lack of cleanliness along with it.
The man walked over to the boy and the table,
he looked with despair in his eye.
The man didn’t want to see the table so the boy placed naivety there.
At that moment, the light at the centre of the table
got bright,
illuminating more of the room.
Before, the room was dark and all you could see was the decrepit table that now stands
upon the marble floor.
The boy leaves the room, leaving
the man and the table.
The light gets brighter as the boy leaves.
The man turns to witness the boy disappear.
He stops in his tracks as he notices the beauty around him.
He notices beautiful architecture and paintings filled with such love and hope.
As he looks, the room engulfs him in light.
He’s taken aback and looks around once more
to find the table was never there.
He leaves the room, no longer a lonely man,
Now filled with the beauty of what is around him.

The Poetry Zone

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