Nothing
I have nothing to say
Really, nothing
The sound of a knife scrapes
Hollow within,
And the naked branches
Scratching the pain
Disfigured moments
Knocking, knocking
And, I still have nothing
but silence
Waiting
And you
What do you have to say
but
Nothing!
Nothing for me, for you
And so what?
What is it all about
Pity, love, compassion
or Nothing.
Our time on earth
passes, passes
and passes and
I still have nothing,
nothing to
say
but;
that I hear a whisper, a whisper
of the wind
wanting to caress
everything!
And nothing!
Copyright © Lorraine Ferns | Year Posted 2012
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