Poems of a Neurotic Insomniac

We Wished We Could Paint Those Chairs Black

I absolutely loathed it at first;
it was everything I fought so hard to avoid--
but I was there,
and I couldn't leave.

I couldn't leave the white walls
or the colorful chairs that I just knew
were placed in a wishful attempt
to dispel the darkness of those who sat in it.

I despised those chairs,
but I love the people who sat in them.
I hate socializing, but maybe that's why I love them;
We didn't have to say a word to understand each other.

I don't remember their names,
and I doubt they remember mine.
I just remember realizing that I wasn't alone.
We all had the same darkness inside us.

That's why we sat in those chairs,
listening to "Paint it Black"
every day
at 8 o'clock in the morning.