One sad bloke once told me,
The saddest thing in the world for him was to shout and not be heard.
No matter what he did the world continued without him,
No attention was paid, no heads were turned.
His energy filled the streets,
Filling the air, wall to wall, from one building to the next.
From a triumphing shout to a somber howl,
Not a single soul gave him any respect.
To no heart or mind does he belong to,
Nobody knows, nobody cares.
He simply does not exist,
He lives in a space that nobody shares.
It was a realm of no faces,
Not a tweet from a single bird.
There was nobody but him,
Isolated & unconnected to other worlds.
He is A....
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Reflections of the Son 2013: Moments of Absence
PoetryThis is YEAR SIX of my collection of poetry made from ranging moods, styles & motifs; each telling a perspective on life, as I, the author, see it. A piece written every week in the year of 2013; totaling at 60 devious deviations with 1 bonus poem m...
