Trust is a difficult thing
to those without wings
asked to fly.
Hope fades heart strings
Of those pulled awry
by questions unanswered.
We try
to keep faith with leaders
who cannot say why
they stand aside.
We plead for speed
To save lives.
Answers lie within
not outside;
but words must be
Shouted out to be heard
so there is no doubt
what we expect
To protect
Ukrainian lives.
The silence is too loud.
Thoughts scream across empty space,
then follow me to bed at night
where cacaphonous dreams replace rest
and solitudinous slumber.
Limbs collide amidst the din of broad strokes
across swollen heart strings
screeching a loud lament.
Reeds explode in pressured bursts of pain,
pealing shouts across my brow.
Constant drumming throbs a meandering beat
unbalancing my feet and mind
with words best left unsaid.
Isolation breaks the rhythm of silent speech.
Music bounces off the walls of my retreat
to this empty, safe and un-crowned house.
The silence is too loud.
I cannot hear my self think my thoughts.
The lyrics repeat the same phrase
over and over and over.
When will this end so we can begin again
to dance in the streets?
And meet for brunch before the matinee ?
When can we say, “See you later today” ?
The silence is too loud.
Filed under POETRY
annarino writes 