The Mayhem Of My Subconscious

Anything goes

Colleen Millsteed

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A modern 3D rendering of blue roads with black markings and tall elongated buildings.
Image courtesy of Pixabay

Random mice run around everybody’s feet,
Screaming ensues in the crowded room,
High heels coming dangerously close,
As the ceiling is swept with a pink straw broom.

Scarecrows wander the jolly halls,
Cackling and groaning in unison,
Dreadlocks flowing in a river of air,
Acting as demons and crazy hooligans.

Roosters crow at the window panes,
Pecking the glass until it suddenly shatters,
Flocking onto shoulders of milling guests,
Pecking at their noses until the blood splatters.

Angry willow trees swoosh over the roof,
Removing tile after tile, peering down inside,
People are horrified, running and stampeding,
Attempting to climb into library books in which to hide.

Swallows with six inch incisors,
Swoop down to bite ankles as people scatter,
Tendons are torn as women tear off their dresses,
When in walks the darkness of the Mad Hatter.

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Colleen Millsteed

Top Writer in Poetry. I’m a Finance Manager with a love of both numbers and words.