Silence at it's Peak

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I sit for four hours and waste life away.
I stare for four hours – No one knows what I think.
Quiet Room,
a quiet deafening room
Keep the silence- I have no intention to fill the void in the air
Alas, I have not a moment to spare – I bestow my phony gratitude


toward precious time. Procrastination, the petite distractions
earns but disapproval in their shiny orbs, each diverse in tint,
will not fool me.
Vaguely I overhear the laughter from the cherub’s sweet and untainted mouth
My own flesh and blood, How is it you can be so
Naïve? So innocent?


Down the line I have already fallen
one blurry misshapen figure after another
He is uninformed, unaware, unprepared
the attempt of mine is fruitless, I have nothing to impart.
Realization takes hold, I am not falling but-
I am still.


Like Salinger’s Carousel, everyone is moving forward
I am at a stand still

Do not feed me violins,
I am glistening in the cold sweat of guilt,
I will not watch you sink, I will not watch you fade.

The rocks stay. Yes- they are caught in the middle
Of the stream. Water can flow for days, years,
and they will still be the same.

I want him to be different. But
I realize now, time will pass.
We sail through our youth so impatiently until we see
That the years move along one insipid second after another. Am I
capable of declaring such a truth upon the
pedestal of surrender?

While my revelation is of the essence I fly
I fly on as fast as dear Mercury.
With no condolences for him weighing me down.





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