this heart once bright
has taken solemn flight
to a world unknown
beyond the understanding of one's own.
to a place where darkness is one's only
companion, and the will to carry on
is but a goal which can't be won.
two times too many,
twice, too shy,
having once failed, refuses to retry.
this smile once real
masks what can't be revealed
for fear of misjudgment
or creating a wrong appeal
a smile which once said it was all in your head
but because you didn't listen,
you wound up at the edge.
two times too many,
twice, too shy,
and once having failed, refuses to retry.
this voice once determined
to speak without the curtain
has reverted to a silence
which prevents that passive violence.
this voice once mellow
and made to entertain
is held back by the chains
of fear and of pain.
two times too many,
twice, too shy
again having failed, refuses to retry.
this connection once felt
translucent in its way,
has now been compelled
to a halt which is to stay.
a regular correspondence,
a normal interaction,
a complete and utter despondence
has become the main attraction.
two times too many,
twice, too shy.
and forever having failed, refuses to retry.
YOU ARE READING
P.S.
Poesia"Not all Art has to be art. Some Art is simply the Art of writing." ~ T. Durand
