Sutures Poem by Edwin Robinette

Suture my sorrowful eyes

Viewing a world of bitterness,
hate and hostility,
like bile coursing through
veins, where blood once streamed,
to pump only dismal impressions
of woe into the heart,
to seethe and fester day after day
until numbness reigns.

Suture my oppressed ears

The words of the hatemonger,
the gall of politicians
and teachings of the warlords,
reach my ears with loathing.
Those enterprises with disgusting
ideals, the evil linguists persists,
pushing their wicked agendas
upon the population.

Suture my worried lips.

To orally instigate my disdain,
to speak truthfully,
falls on failing audition.
Fervent words are a combination
of useless and inefficiant tasks.
Quietly, I shall sit in discordance,
hidden in solitude,
awaiting any further contradictions