Others' Pain
Blinded,
Bound,
By nothing (to define it).
Colors fell away
As quickly as the Aspen leaves,
Who'd played in costumes of death for a day.
Words, they grasped
But reached into the void
I winced as I sliced with the empty glass.
Meaning,
Moaning,
Reading, reading, reading.
I had no story, or less.
I searched, until someone said,
I believe that life is meaningless-
My slow, dreary mind
Felt only a gust as the soul floated past
The objection, a reaction of the connection
To a woman of my kind.
Diaries of dead girls,
Read girls,
Led girls.
To this place of still bliss,
A world of new solace,
Self-made role models,
Candles in darkness.
My pen started slowly, wobbled
Shifting feelings into blocks of pure expression,
The flow, the vision, the passion-
In a swirl of bright colors that I could now see
I would be a poet,
And this I could conceive.