Nameless
Everything, everyone, wherever might turn
A maddening silence would be all to discern
Reasons may vary as any drop of the sand
Though intentions bring promise the results are less grand
False are the footsteps from the masquerade dance
You follow the sign posts yet never advance
Stand misdirected with paralyzed grip
A stifling sickness that can shoot from the hip
As one quiet poem crafts a marking of words
Shout from the rafters and never get heard
Copyright SGW 2010
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