Inadequate Ears

The clock reads eighteen twenty three
Yet this means very little; to me
Every hour like the last
Consumed in cigarette smoke
Coffee dregs in a broken cup and
Broken fingers. Do portray a symbol
Life’s cruel wrath has swallowed
The remnants of used to be
Alive, not living enough to see
The beauty, the aging sun shines on
Faceless entities and space less places
Cold morning rise, stir my senses
In your falsehood I wallow worrying
Of what emerald crime would dismantle
That poignant girl in my mirror
Devoid of substance, lingering somewhere
Near the jaws of oblivion, she
Cries tears of sincere hatred; intended
For all the world to perceive
But ears are utterly inadequate, as
True pain festers in silence
It cannot speak and we cannot hear
We will never, ever hear

Inadequate Ears

Deirdre969

Joined February 2008

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

A declaration of anguish that festers in silence.
People cannot hear or understand the agony oPOST /mybubble/writing/792793 HTTP/1.1
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