Others' Pain



By nothing (to define it).


Colors fell away

As quickly as the Aspen leaves,

Who'd played in costumes of death for a day.


Words, they grasped

But reached into the void

I winced as I sliced with the empty glass.




Reading, reading, reading.


I had no story, or less.

I searched, until someone said, 

I believe that life is meaningless-


My slow, dreary mind

Felt only a gust as the soul floated past

The objection, a reaction of the connection

To a woman of my kind.


Diaries of dead girls,

Read girls,

Led girls.


To this place of still bliss,

A world of new solace,

Self-made role models,

Candles in darkness.


My pen started slowly, wobbled

Shifting feelings into blocks of pure expression,

The flow, the vision, the passion-

In a swirl of bright colors that I could now see

I would be a poet,

And this I could conceive. 







This poem is about: 
Our world


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