WHIMSICAL POETRY

And when the boredom overtook my mind,
I watched the ceiling dance.
I argued with a spider on the wall,
afraid to take a chance.

The candle flickered as I watched it glow.
And then I head the din,
Of the thunderstorm once outside my room.
It now had broken in.

Am I never to be safe from the cold?
Cold world, cold hearts, cold you...
Can I not hide my heart from that which hurts,
Or must I exile that, too...