WhistlingA Poem by RandolphOdd when they wear you out but won't let you sleep....I let it pass silently me right by. Didn’t miss a single solitary beat. Never paused to wonder why, I felt so timid, so quiet and weak. Some inner rythym busy at play. An undiscovred, grim timepiece. I’d ignored a most unholy day. Crept right past a slumbering beast. How uneasy I’d suddenly become. It was bent to tormenting foolish me. My instrument at peace, now unstrung. Me left flipping pages, pondering eternity. Unknown, unwatched, this demon did reside. Comfortably cocooned within hearts blood. And there ever will it live and ever thrive. Until yearly it unleashes this unfeeling flood. Impossible to keep such things at bay. Being bound far too tight to who I am. Frozen in infamy will remain that day. In that moment did Never Ever begin. No wall too high, no crevasse too deep. No wish can whisk such a thing aside. See this is ever my wound to keep. Is not a sorrow from which one hides.
© 2018 Randolph |
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Added on April 7, 2018 Last Updated on April 7, 2018 Author
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