Wounds of Sound

I used to be afraid, scared to death
at the sound of their piercing wail,
now, I sleep soundly to their
seeking echoes

I can not imagine my life without them.
Sad that this is commonplace
but at least here, I can see it,
can see the corruption
and it isn’t hidden under top secret stamps
and clandestine meetings

We don’t need your interference.
Your troubles soon will surface,
and overwhelm and confuse you.
I’m just the messenger
You can shoot
I’m not afraid

Maybe the sound
will lull me to a better place
where nightmares and nighmarish
realities don’t exist.

S
H
O
O
T

(Old Piece – August 21st 2008)

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. wordwand says:

    a lovely poem, thanks for sharing it.

  2. angirach says:

    Thank you for the comment. I’m glad you enjoyed.

  3. so can relate to this poem,, thanks for putting it down in words…

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