Sunday, January 19, 2014

A Silent Voice

A war of politics
and sad words –
a shotgun
pointed at the man
this dream he had
and can’t remember
his self-worth, nor birth
as he runs his mind
along the scars
connecting all the thoughts
these memories in vain.
So now, he sits and watches
as a feather
and a fleeting moment
float away
majestic in their dance
yet neither seems to fall –
but the window keeps on watching
into the widening gulf of sacrifice –
a microphone without a word
just another…. piece of steel
cold and lifeless
a silent voice –
where everyone can hear it cry….
now dead.


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