#1
Some words about a dream i had.


Bleached white walls
fade to grey,
mildewed moss halls:
bloodied white walls.

Like concrete rots,
the constant loss
of blanket white sleep.
await the tray
she brings. smelling like sheep
of bloody white sleep.

Like concrete, rots
the constant, lost
bastion: white anxiety.

In those bloody white walls,
her concrete downfall.
she drank her daughter's blood
and cried her name.
#5
Hmm, well done. Kind of creepy too. But not overly so. I especially like the following lines:
Like concrete, rots
the constant, lost
bastion: white anxiety.

They're a quick, abrupt rehash.