Feeling here
I am alone.
Waiting softly
For the phone;
Waiting for
Someone to call
Knowing that
No on will speak,
Everyone
Is so weak,
They fall.
And no one
Comes inside
My feeling,
I hear shadows
On the ceiling,
They protect me
From the meaning
And the sounds
Of no one
Screaming,
For the reason
I am waiting,
For the phone
To start ringing.
Waiting here
For anything,
That will tell me
I am free.
I’m waiting for
My phone to ring.
So much longing and the constant repetition of waiting, waiting, waiting a perpetual reminder of it...
Silence can be so deafing...and we always long for that call, that one call, from a friend, from long ago, to reasure us, that we are still loved.. Great Poem, Sandra Warm regards, Theodora Onken
The golden silence is broken by a ring, ring, ding a ling, silence is golden With a warmth allan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like your poem all the way down to the last line.Gees I can'nt belive the telemarketers don't call, I dont even know why I have a message machine thanks Cliff