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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Psychology · #2003605
A poem about the duality of personality
My Midnight Friend


At night I hear it whisper to me from
inside the cage society helped build.
I wonder will the iron bars of com-
munity ably hold back this dark beast.

At night I hear it taunting me, begging
to be set free from the pathetic cage.
It knows the iron bars of morality
won't be enough to hold it forever.

At night I want to let it out,
with its power I have no shame.
Those iron bars are not so strong
as my own sick curiosity.

At night I let him out
and behold what I call beautiful.
Though society would call him ugly
would call it scary, psychotic and sick.

At night sometimes I admire his beauty
the black matted fur covered in familiar stench.
His huge sharp teeth covered in silvery toxic saliva
his panting sending out the sweet stink of bated breath.

At night we sit together and talk
about what we have in common.
He is entertained by violence and
I would be a liar to say any different.

At night we sit together and wonder
just exactly how it is that we differ.
He has no fear, perfect dangerous poise
something I only wish to boast.

At night when the sun threatens to shine
I put him into the cage he so fiercely hates.
Afraid he will be seen and judged
by all those who keep their cages locked.

In the morning I am so glad
that I can put him away.
I am glad I have the power,
I am glad he is my pet.

At night I sit and wonder
if that morning was only an illusion.
perhaps I had it wrong before,
is he my pet or am I his?

© Copyright 2014 Bjorn E. R. Olson (bigriles at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2003605-My-Midnight-Friend