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Literature Text
I whispered my dreams
Into a wishing well-
The glint of silver coins
Flashing dully under the rippling surface.
So many empty souls
Tossing coins upon the water;
In hopes of a sliver of hope.
But no one ever told me
That all you get
Is a small splash
And an echo of tarnished soul-songs,
Floating from beneath the still, still surface...
But it's never any use,
Because the heart is just a hollow muscle
That moves to stay alive.
Into a wishing well-
The glint of silver coins
Flashing dully under the rippling surface.
So many empty souls
Tossing coins upon the water;
In hopes of a sliver of hope.
But no one ever told me
That all you get
Is a small splash
And an echo of tarnished soul-songs,
Floating from beneath the still, still surface...
But it's never any use,
Because the heart is just a hollow muscle
That moves to stay alive.
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
Literature
what about him?
he cries, but no-one hears,
they shelter themselves from his pain,
they think he's a nuisance,
they ignore his cries,
He screams, but no one hears,
but they still feel his cold breath as it hits them,
they don't care, they won't embrace him,
what if i were to cry?
what if i screamed?
they would care for me,
maybe only from pity,
but that would be better than nothing,
he has nothing,
no-one to care for him,
no-one to even pity him,
no-one.
his name?
The sky
Literature
My Reality
Grasping for reality
Something only I can see
Others have such crowded views
To see the world's true coloured hues.
Trust me when I tell you this
You are surrounded by a mist.
It makes you not the bit to see
What Humanity is to really be.
People come to me at best
Learned that I have passed their test.
And every time with what you do
You'll never see what world is true.
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There's not much I want to say, but most of it can't be said with words.
© 2013 - 2024 smallsincerities
Comments6
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This is great. I find it hard to set tone for my writing. I have been told it tends toward tonelessness (not a word really, I know). This is anything but toneless. It sounds as if the person is reminiscing about something a tad awful, but trying to put a somber spin on it. I don't know. I'm not very good at this. You clearly are though, so don't mind the incompetence....
