I hear sad tones going forth among all voices,
I read stories wrinkled between grimaces,
I see determined gazes residing in eyes crumbling from
But I don’t feel anymore...
I don’t know how. Just like how I was a kid five seconds
ago before I blinked.
My life has become monologic, I speak silence, I
blame the past, I wish the future, I curse luck, I bless
illusions, I smile sadness and I get mad at happiness
for being late...
And they still think they understand me, but if they
understood why that tear incised its way through my
cheek they would probably cut my head off to stop the
pain, but I already did that myself, I cried a rain. So I
choose to remain silent. After all,
if they can’t stand it how would they stand
me when I go out loud.
This poem is about: