Inside Out
Inside Out
In the attic of my mind, where thoughts do curl and curl,
A film‑ish stage unfurls – a circus of my inner world.
Joy, the brightest candle, flickrs in a cricket‑white glow,
Takes the lead in every laugh, in triumphs that I know.
Sadness, she falls like rain on a London drizzle,
An elegant, somber rain‑coat swirled in a frown‑swell.
Her watery silks run down the shelves of memory,
Painting blue‑shaded scenes where I once felt so free.
Fear’s a hare‑ko͂ch shadow, hissing along the fringes,
A whistle‑breath in the dark, telling me the danger’s near.
He jumps over puddles, stares behind the bus‑stop,
“Best keep an eye out, before the world hides it’s gear.”
Anger, the Big Bad Tempest, logs out a rattling spark,
“Right, this is my tea‑cup!” he bellows, catching the arc.
The air, he blinks, and his temper rolls like a storm,
Lightning‑spike quivers, a full‑scale, furious form.
Disgust, the hostess, swirls a tea‑cup with grace,
“Put it away, child, that stench will put you in a fray.”
She frowns the face of a refuse, a chunk of rusty –
Her nostrils rise in protest, “That ain’t a pic‑nic.
The room stays spinning, so many different ways to soar,
My favourite pool of angles – sadness wavers, joy glows,
Fear huddles in the corner, anger laughs loudly in the hall.
They all organise a perfect, sometimes odd dream‑call.
I, the impartial narrator, watch them waltz and shout,
In a glowing, neon life‑pad, with each bright tiktok‑brou,
I learn that even the bleakest night can have a gleam:
When One feels deep inside, perhaps the world’s not a bad team.
An e‑cho, a hum, a hush – inside out, so truce,
In this carnival of feelings, life’s a jolly ride, procure.
Because the mind’s a globe that spins a poet’s breeze
At each flick‐brake of our feelings, surprises do re‑unfold with ease.*
