fuck you, sound.

[brickwall_vewz]

I sat throught Editing I today, worked on a new poem and thought, this is good, I'm writing again. Maybe I'll have enough (or something good enough) to send out soon. And then I got on LibraryThing and happened upon a certain bi-monthly poetry review. I found this poem. It was good. Hell, it was amazing. Also, the author was twenty. With at least

Comments

[team_lizzy]

What happened to that whole quitting smoking thing eh?

[brickwall_vewz]

it's a work in progress.

myself as well - wrote this in the wee small hours

[itstantan]

Empty

Devoid…I feel a void
I feel an overwhelming void
and this new found emptiness
will be my drive
my need to stay alive
…strive?
…thrive?
this world won’t bring me down
I won’t let it
I can’t let it
and while I really shouldn’t fret it …
I do … I do?
Oh my God I do because I’m worried

worried?
you’re fucking right I’m worried
my thoughts are in a flurry
all my actions seem too hurried
and everytime I see the news?
Jesus Christ another story

Another country scraping by...
tears in another mother’s eyes
because she’s burying her son
then she’s burying her face
in her hands
screaming out “Another time!”
shouting out “Another place!”
and then she cries
she weeps
she sobs herself to sleep
and I’m irrate
irrate?
her son was only eight.

and it seems you’ve all forgotten how to care
you’ve all forgotten how to share
you’ve misplaced your humanity
replaced it with your vanity
and with vacant faces you just stare

you stare contently...
because you’re empty

so...?