Deadened

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  • Jealousy

    Deadened

    Down that road
    There is all that talk
    of strength something I wish I had
    to withstand an eight hour job
    to not belabour every waking minute
    that I could earn money. I wish it were that easy
    to be so balanced and not morosely neurotic
    about jobs, getting jobs. All this talk just makes
    me want to crawl in bed, or best yet dead
    A deafening finish, but I know its selfish
    most minutes, most hours, I was and still am alone
    Not working, not living, not befriending
    I only want to talk, sharing in support groups
    I only want that, to speak in comfy rooms, where I dont have to lead
    how I envy those with the gift of gab,
    look at how they succeed more at work

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    To have great poets there must be great audiences too.

    Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)

    DennisterM’s Poems (13)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Orange curtains 0
    Pines sap 0
    American 0
    Grimhilde 0
    Western 0
    Sweat 1
    Mists 0
    Separation 1
    Deadened 0
    Horizons 0
    Inner 0
    Awake 1
    Soldier 0