Wordless Poem by Ivan Donn Carswell
Wordless
I guess we ran out of talk –
the who’s that and what does it mean
stuff we used to survive on
and the unrequited repartee
which burdens silence still
as tacitly cynical clichés
this debris seems greater
than leavings of
just two disaffected souls
like take-away scraps
balanced on the lips
of wordless garbage bins
© 26 August 2009, I. D. Carswell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 10:59:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
