NaPoWriMo – Day #8

I sit in a gallery of eyes
all watching me fail.
Pinned to a cork board,
I hang in empty time,
waiting

Small worries
chew at my brain,
crawl under my skin,
making me itch

The thing I forgot
is haunting me,
taunting me.

I try to close my eyes
and disappear,
but even though I’m mad
it doesn’t work for me.

22

These are dark days
Our minds are filled with small thoughts
like dogs on short leads
we don’t stray far
from the concrete
Our lives shrink to fit
into the prescribed boxes
society has set for us
We have forgotten the time
when we used to soar
Our mouths are filled with small words
and all our bad victories
catch in our throats

Malaise

There is an emptiness
in these days, a barrenness
Surely we have
taken a wrong turn

Birds keep searching, calling
to one another
endlessly circling the skies
but they find nothing 
with which to build their nests

Oceans are punishing
the shore 
stealing it away
bit by bit
and no one seems to notice

The land sighs and shrugs under
its bitter coat of snow
It has forgotten
how once it
enticed seeds to germinate

I try to turn inward, but
there is a wall
everywhere I look
topped with razor wire

Somewhere there must be a door
but I cannot find it

Turned

Wandering through
this dark, cold night
we stumble over
stones in the path
stones thrown in anger
stones that could build walls
stones that could break bones
stones that could bring down giants
or stones that waited in secret pockets
stones that sat in collections, on shelves

stones
that may once have been
our hearts

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This is for Hedgewitch’s Friday 55 at Verse Escape.