Atrocity

Atrocity

Looking for patterns in the ceiling
Find some, finding none.

None is some, and some is a lot,
A face staring back at me
All night I see you
The clown haunting my dreams.

Shrieks and shrills
Screaming wills
I find the wall talking back
Am I sane or am I broken
Is this all but a dream.

The wall whispers atrocities
Terrible things.

8/8/21 – Andy McRae

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Andy McRae

I have been writing poetry for the last 13 years. It all started as an assignment for a creative writing course. I never thought I would like writing, as I am dyslexic and language was always a struggle for me, but I fell in love with the art form in that class.

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