Scrolling through the white noise, hidden by the screen, looking for the unknown from an old forgotten dream
Random interaction in amongst the throng, he hears a little whisper that reminds him of a song
Escaping from the shackles of their scrutiny, he sends a little whisper back, in his messages to me
Getting by in the rut of life, governed by his code, eagerly awaiting for the next episode
Masterfully extricates, the words that cannot flow, I write so fast to please him, before he has to go
He stands inside this library, that's housed inside his mind, to break the monotony, of their daily grind
His fingers type out messages, stabbing at the keys, pushing all the buttons, that bring me to my knees
Shrouded in their secrecy, running from the crowd, finding silence in the words, that pause life being loud
He holds dear this connection, that reignites his flame, his messages are just enough to ease their inner pain
Tentatively questioning, finding out some more, dangerous territories, to discover and explore
It cannot be forever, it's just a passing phase, his messages will stay with me, until my final days
YOU ARE READING
Little Whispers
PoetryA collection of poetic prose from the depths of a troubled mind *All images are reproduced from Wordpress Media Gallery
