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In the silence she realizes
this is just another love poem
There's a cry in her chest, a lump refusing to be released
Just another love poem
In the silence no one can hear the wind whispering
mysteriously, the hallway isn't creaking
But her loneliness screams
in just another love poem
The pins dropp here and there, here and
we don't hear them in the silence
And then all of a sudden
we are aware of how alone we are
How alone as we listen to love songs in the car
And in a calm and desperate moment
she wants to take an exacto knife and cut the lump out
And put it on the mantel like crystal, pure tones
ringing her silent screams
A souvenir
Just another knickknack in this love poem
She knows this time it will be better than before
She can hear the sixteen crickets chirping, and once again
she only understands five, there are so many more
in the silence, singing incoherent words
Sixteen melancholy voices calling out to her
And she sings so buoyantly
I am beautiful, words can bring me down
I am beautiful in this love poem
I wanted to be a painter so I could show you
I wanted to be a folk singer so I could carry you
But
this is just another love poem
LisaAnn LoBasso
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, March 24, 2006 |
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, March 24, 2006 |
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Poets
