A voice is straining,
Desperately calling out,
Pleading.
It never relents,
Never shys away,
Always shouting,
Begging.
No one listens,
We have more important things to do,
Our gossips precides over his knowledge.
Discussing life, our lives,
Inperceptive of his vain attempts,
Selfish.
I am with these people,
Though really I want to know,
Need to listen.
Still none of us stop,
We're destroying this man,
His tie grows loose,
His brow sweaty.
We become more and more shallow,
Uncomprehending his desire to help,
It is our futures we are ruining, only ours.
Though I am frustrated,
Still I sit and write, oblivious,
Cruel.
x x x
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4 comments:
NIKI - GET YOURSELF A PUBLISHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im being serious. ppl have been published for far worse things than yours, and you are ACE at writing this whole poem thing.
Yeah, this is good. Who is this guy you're talking about? And am I reading too much into it, or is it about the tabloids versus quality journalism and how monotonous trivia is drowning out what really matters? As Yoda would say, impressive this is.
yeah thanks guys, thats a good thought actually gordon but in truth its about school. its about the near breakdown of my exasperated ICT teacher. deep it is not, neither is it intellectual - its a ten minute thing at the end of the lesson! x x x
its good, whatever its *really* about. and who says there has to be a definitin anyway? its all about what the reader takes from it.
good writing though.
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