And He Talked and Talked and Talked
Ears listening to only his lies,
And his lies spoke only to him,
Trying to be quiet yet still screaming,
Drowning in rants never heard,
So concise but not too clear,
Imprisoned in thoughts of obsession,
Muttering useless ancient literary rules,
In love with yet hating poetic expressions,
Foreign to his limited imagination,
Trapped behind walls of old thought,
Grasping yet never holding reality,
While visions of punctuation and conformity crowd his tiny unexpanded mind,
Judging without thinking one step ahead,
Thinking thoughts that kill his judgement,
Still his body moves forward to nowhere,
His voice the only sound left to comfort him,
Unaware of love just beneath his window,
Desolation blinds his desperate micro brain,
In pathetic awe of ancient written rules,
Never really meant for one of his ilk,
For they were penned for men of consciousness,
Aware their times and rules would surely end,
Were never truly meant for all the centuries,
Suffocating in the dust of a past he never lived,
Afraid of new ideas of written expression,
Created from the minds of what he fears most,
Free thinking writers unafraid of literary change,
And still,
He talked and talked and talked.
Copyright © Robert Gruhn | Year Posted 2014
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