Doctor Dashaun Snipes Poems

In the depths of my mind, a room resides,
A sanctuary of chaos, where panic hides,
A place of refuge, yet a prison too,
This is the tale of my Panic Room.
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In the depths of my being lies a hole,
A void that echoes of despair and pain,
A cavity where loneliness takes its toll,
A wound where love fails to sustain.
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Somewhere; somehow
I'm bound to find you in a hidden place.
My name is Death.
I come bearing burned offerings.
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In the depths of night, where shadows creep,
A haunting presence, a secret to keep,
A tale of darkness, of despair and pain,
In this Gothic realm, where souls remain.
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In the depths of a fragmented mind,
A labyrinth of thoughts and realities unwind.
Psychoschizophrenia, a delicate dance,
A divergent path from the norm's expanse.
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Look at me.


I have never been so thin.
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When I was a teenager spirit grazing in the high grass, I was taught that I was less than anyone on earth not just because I was black.

Because I was always a praying spirit, it made the embodied jury around me angry, it made everyone want to retaliate out misunderstanding.
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It's been over two decades since I first met you.

Even longer since I even bothered to get your name and number.
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Alone in the darkness, I shiver and shake
The cold seeps into my bones, making me ache
I feel so uncomfortable, so out of place
Lost in the shadows, with no familiar face
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In the realm where thoughts entwine with dreams,
A tale unfolds with faintest seams,
Of a lad who stirs a mystic brew,
Dejavu, a dance that feels so true.
...