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.