The Abrasiveness of Quiet

Eight billion people on Earth,
and you're destined to die alone.
At one time you had a murder of friends.
Drinking and blurring the night until the sun made you cry.

Time doesn't matter when you're young,
Youth is a brief balloon ride
through pastel blitzed horizons.
    Then you meet "the one"; friends do the same.
Leading separate lives- slowly drifting away.
A spray of children quickly follows.
A family of ducks settling in their pond.
Happiness and pitter-patter at their peak and beyond.
    The ducklings swim away in search of their own pond.
You never knew quiet could be so abrasive.
You pay more attention to time (the graffiti freight train)

You've outlived "the one."
Taken away by a cluster of black balloons.
You never knew quiet could be so cancerous.

You have buckets of time on your hands.
Your garden is the nicest on the block.
A stranger told you so.
Eight billion people on Earth
and you're destined to die alone.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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