Sunday, 20 May 2007

You keep me at a distance
While you fish for your own gratification.
Glory, if you will.
I indulge to your satisfaction
Until I’m pierced with a shrill,
A shrieking noise of silence,
Of stark stillness.
While I pioneer a path of solitude
Like some unwanted guest.
So I wander on my own
Drag my mumblings in this bag.
The one that only opens
When it's tearing from a snag.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ohh....! You're mad in this one, I like it - I like the angry/ sarcastic ones. Very fiesty, girl!