Noone Available To Talk Poem by Craig Turner

Staring out at space,
The change of wind doesn't affect,
The uncracked face,
Noones out there available to talk to you,
Noones home,
Noones out,
Everyones gone in.

Little dancing baffoons,
Float on backlit skies,
In registered silver balloon's
The searchers cry,
There's noone out there to talk too,
And noone here,
All the elements that hold us together,
Have disappeared.

Little flies on the horizon,
Precious traces of hope,
Gathering around in unforeseen formations,
When they hit It knocks you back in a pile,
A startled justification cant compete,
So arise to your feet and fly.