Poetry#2 - My Room

My Room

cries trapped
reverberates against the walls.
floats over my bed
the gazes that never cease to turn
the faces that beg to be buried.
it's funny how time works
or is it the death?
could be the terrible waltz together
so out-of-sync;
how it takes a moment to die
and forever to know that they died.
over and over
trapped
reverberating against the walls.