Introducing The Next Generation Of Leaders And Thinkers

The Stranger

After learning more thouroghly about surrealism through the artwork of Clarence John Laughlin, a photographer during the 1940s. His photographic artwork evokes surrealistic, spiritual, and mystery through the use of monotone colors. As a result from the mood of his photographs, I composed a poem.

There is an existing connection with this stranger

I’m a moth drawn to his flame

His aura radiates danger

He is new in town, no one knows why he came

Something beckons him into my dream

My check is caressed by his cold fingers

I am paralysed watching his obsidian eyes gleam

I quickly wake up in my room where the dark lingers

It’s a dream too deep in my conscious

I take a walk and the streets look the same

Suddenly, I begin to feel nauseous

A car speeds toward me, ready to take blame

The air is poison,the car is closer, I cannot reach for life

It’s the stranger, the pain,and death’s knife


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