I cross a subway,
it was quiet–
I found a sense of agony
from the silence
for I have lived
with no sound
for years
and ages,
maybe centuries.
Strangers
can't make me happy.
It was
a short minute
before
my agony
diminished
into a sweet,
sweet sound
of a bullet
from another stranger's gun.
YOU ARE READING
Mellifluous Murmurs
Poetry❁ Freedom is allowing the crisp air to guide you through this forest we can call society. ❁
