8. 2004 Revisited

This madness crawls inside my head,
this ugliness leaves my words unsaid,
this emptiness makes me cling in dread
to the shadows of the living dead.
It has left me bereft
and afraid
to move,
to speak,
to stand up and be seen,
to rise above myself and walk,
to happily live my dream.

Would I be happier if words were silent?
Would I be saner if hurt had no voice?
Would the world be silent if I made no sound?
Would the world be voiceless if I made the choice to sacrifice my art,
to stop my words from spilling out of my barren soul onto this guiltless paper?

©Brindology 2016

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s