Sometimes

Devoid I lay in company
of unquiet as it lingers,
words are lost to a.m. hours’ lips
kissing sweetly, beckoning me.

Cracked, my speech alone it carries
on unto the deaf found within,
seeking homes it never shall find
‘midst unwelcome tunes in passing.

Poetry without the poet’s hand,
desert sands which blind creation,
longing still remains upon the
paths belonging to goals once set.

Penny’s earning for thoughts given
mockingly, sarcasm dripping
disdain that I might be silenced,
words buried then, as ears hear not.

Advertisements

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