PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This place is so full, so quiet,

So empty, so loud,

I’m feeling lonely

In a never-ending crowd.

To you I am talking,

And I’m ignoring you,

I’m telling a lie that couldn’t be more true.

You’ve forgotten me,

Yet I’m all you think of,

I’m watching the traffic,

Go by above.

I know no English,

Yet I'm writing this poem,

I have no needle, no thread,

And yet I am sewing.

The world is spinning

But the Earth is still,

I am just newborn,

Now I'm writing my will.

I am my own sister,

My father, my mother,

In the same house we live,

And never see eachother.

I know not my way about,

But I know where I'm going,

I dont have a garden,

And the lawn needs mowing.

I have a voice

But I'm unable to speak,

I'm still climbing the mountain,

When I'm at the peak.

There are no witnesses to a public suicide,

There's a monster in the forest

and there's nowhere to hide