Knifing Empty Air
Silent cold screaming loneliness is all that can be heard here,
It splits the air as a blade that has just left the bastard file,
A sky dark grey blankets my cares, warms my cancerous apathy,
These days mix into one, a fast brewed blend of monotony played in vain,
A record spins ceaselessly on, a musical carousel, a soundtrack for my empty days,
Closed in, secluded, I have forgotten once again to be human.
My hopes and dreams I have cast aside in this windowless chamber,
I grow deaf and blind from the silence that eats at my senses,
I cannot feel the hope for tomorrow that led me to this pitfall.
Dreams that once burned bright behind my eyes, now lay snoring
In a funeral pyre; it ignites, shines bright, what once was is destroyed.
Will they resurface from the ashes? Or will the winds simply sweep them away? – Gilbert Attwood Jr.
Copyright © Gilbert Attwood | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment