The hard feeling
of deaths short breath
wraps around the page of apology
the shards of glass that break the apology
do not break the soul
but the breath does
as a faint whistle silence sparks
to revive the soul of pain and deceit
to walk this earth hand by hand
not to destroy but to rebuild
the future of this lone soul
reckons softly
without a reply
the sounds of the last whistle
shapes, the rock
but leaves the roll
of deaths short breath
wraps around the page of apology
the shards of glass that break the apology
do not break the soul
but the breath does
as a faint whistle silence sparks
to revive the soul of pain and deceit
to walk this earth hand by hand
not to destroy but to rebuild
the future of this lone soul
reckons softly
without a reply
the sounds of the last whistle
shapes, the rock
but leaves the roll
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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