Wounds

Fixate to placate
The battle cry
Platitudes that salve,
not save.

Solitary
Singular revolution
Masses speak
One acts

Tribal
Till the end
Speaking of
Bandages on a wounded world

 

 

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Symphonies

beautiful-clouds

 
Such inadequate words
Yet we try
I used to talk in symphonies

Cacophonies of sound
Melodies of phrases
Meanings lost, misunderstood

Pretty sonnets
Quadratic fluff
Known only to me

Silence, always the teacher
Wisdom unspoken
So I watch

Arms spread on a sunny day
Clouds drift unbound
Nothing but this

And this is what is needed
Nothing but this
Without words

Living On The Surface

surface

 

How much was my deposit?
My life a week older
How better off am I?
As I get older

What are the means?
Of living here
When what I give
Causes more fear

I am tired now
Please let me rest
Give a little time now
I will be my best

I finally see now
What it all means
Spending a lifetime
For others means.

Stoic