Torture Poem by Dorsey Baker

His head
bowed down
between his legs
he sits
on his front doorstep
as the red sun
sinks down
into the darkness
of the night
the demons and the flashbacks
come
trying to threaten his sanity
it is hard for him
to make sense
of anything he is thinking
what is fact?
what is fiction?
he don't know if he should
take his hands
and beat against his head
in anger
or just jump for joy!
loneliness
in his house
has overstayed
its welcome!
the sound of silence
is so
overpowering!
it sits down in
every empty space
this can only be temporary
it cannot be eternal!