Sunday, October 9, 2011

Poem: 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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