Cluttered
Pale, unloved, unheard,
a voice so pure,
though crowded,
I have much to say.
Hear me out,
I will play bravery.
If you listen,
I will give you knowledge.
I have seen the world,
through eyes of sordid brass.
Cleverly stolen tidbits
release my inner self.
Treason! I am betrayed.
Acknowledgment of sin,
an ironic pain indeed.
Maybe best unfelt?
Copyright © Saint Alphonse | Year Posted 2009
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