These are a couple poems I wrote after reading a bit of a book about a schizophrenic over my mom's shoulder.

The Man and His Shadows

The man swept away silence

As he chomped his dinner

Thinking over the day's work.

He thought of the shadows

He saw hovering there

They curled around him to lurk.

Maybe he imagined it

Perhaps they were not there

He held his warm mug closer.

He didn't doubt they were real

Of course, they had to be.

Alone..he needed a hug.

Petrol

Blue petrol splashing

In waves away from my feet

It spilled

No use crying now

It will be expensive

My mind slowly reverts

Back to the real world

Away from the splashing petrol.

They aren't my normal style, especially 'Petrol.' I rarely write free verse. The influence of the book was upon me, I believe. 

~The Dryad