December's Window (10.12.07)

This Place has sucked
All vigour and life
From Me.
In this small room
I am trapped;
All alone, save for Facebook,
with nothing to write.

My window is lashed
With torrent;
A swathing storm outside
Belting down a wetpour
Against the pane.
Not itunes nor headphones
Could ever drown
The raging violent raindin,
So hard it smashes
Against the glass.

From my window
The contorted image
Of the once proud Oak
Permeates through globules
Of water that streaks 'cross the glass.
The frail man,
Flailing whilst flogged
By the fury venting wind.

The same callous wind that tortures
That gnarled old Oak Tree man,
Blows its cold heart through the cracks
And gaps in the win'seal
At me. So that I am
Downtrodden with tempest
Whilst stuck in my room;
A torrent of Myspace
DVDs and Pot Noodles.
I am trapped,
With nothing to write