My Imagination

Well, dear reader, it was bound to happen. I was destined to write a poem I am simply not proud of. I struggled mightily with today's prompt, which deals with strange animals. We could write about real animals, or use the animal analogy to describe someone or something. At least, that's how I read the prompt. Whatever I was supposed to do, I am sure I didn't do it. And with that, here is my offering for today. This poem is not about mental health. The ending simply doesn't support my views on such an important issue. I hope that you don't hate this piece completely. It is all I have for today.

Rod E. Kok
October 4, 2018

Imagination

created

many a nightmare

for me

so long ago.

Beasts

would chase me

down darkened streets

until I fell

out of bed.

Barking dogs

brought visions

of rabid hell-hounds,

their frenzied snarls

waking me

from a fitful slumber.

My dreams changed

as I grew up;

beasts turned

into demons,

growling bitches

into a mental incubus.

I never fell

out of bed again,

but

I tumbled

out of sanity.

I am still leary

of darkness;

who knows what lurks

beyond what my eyes

can see.

As I grow older

I’ve given my fears

a name.

My demons have

been christened.

I call them

nothing more

than figments

of my

imagination.