One Day, Perhaps On A Monday Poem by Brian Rop

One day, perhaps on a Monday, afternoon,
You'll realize you belong to a silent world.
Where silence lends an ominous embrace
A world where there'll be nothing to face
And you've heard everything to be told
And all about you, hazy shadows of the moon

One day you'll know silence belonged to you
And you belonged to silence; your worth
Measured by long moments of solitude
Like specimen on the table, a sour mood
And you'll spell all that you are not
And you'll be glad perchance, you were true

One day, on a Monday, perhaps in the afternoon
You'll reckon the futility of speaking your mind
And the vanity of aiming way too high
Among human mongrels ever content to lie
Among humans who to your flaws find
Something to talk about, hoping not for change soon