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Thursday, October 15, 2009

Unheard

Rating: 4.4
I want the conversations
We'll never have.
The urged words drip
Off my tongue
In foreign colours,
And fall to the ground,
Unnoticed, unheard.
Ignored are the whispers
From my stained lips.
The words are heard
but remain
unacknowledged.
Around me are allot
of faces.
Some I recognize and
others I do not.
They smile at me
as they
hold their
conversations.
Talking at me
but never talking
to me.
And despite
the vowels they
pronounce these
faces with their
ears closed
do not hear the
words I return to them.
I want the clouds
to stop turning
grey over my head.
Looking, but not
really seeing the
disappearing self.
With effort I
manage to scream
loud enough to
convince everyone
that
I am still alive.
Chris G. Vaillancourt
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