Unblemished white turns to grey
Sinking further into cement,
As a tiny lantern; a cigarette flame
Alights your steel pavilion,
Aluminum walls confine you -
Thoughts in the mind divide you,
Knowing well the silence will never come;
By the hand of a clock you'll be undone.
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Author:
Nicholas Browning (
Offline) - Published: November 28th, 2021 05:52
- Comment from author about the poem: From the perspective of sitting inside of a smoking booth while some man-made machine kills the quiet. Sheesh.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: Nafis Light
Offline)
Comments6
Oh peace shattered..... I know the feeling......
Death awaits! 😀
This is like the atomic bomb going off, and the guy going into his pocket bringing out a cigar, slowly lighting it, then wondering if he's covered for major catastrophises.
Riding the same wave just a different surfboard. I like it!
Makes me think of someone who feels trapped , and kind of overwhelmed in the mind , maybe ? Something interfering in your state of peace and calm ?
Interesting way with words here
There's always something interfering, even it's me tripping myself up lol. Thanks for the compliment 😛
As you replied: Death awaits - when I sing! heehee. A bad hair day then?
It's always a bad hair day with me around!
It surely is a masterpiece
You really have way with your words
It seems as if somebody was captivated by the rules of society that caged him until the soul freed up by the time
When nothing could cage his soul inside
Such overwhelming emotions pour
That peace seems luxury now
It is my personal belief that we all try to obtain freedom in captivity. Thank you for the kind compliment, I would like to think my way with words serves its purpose in the minds of others, and you guys help relieve the worry that comes with it. Thank you, Spill. Peace is a luxury no person alive can ever afford, it finds us when we need it most, and by the time we notice it, it's gone.
Sure it is
Freedom a word of great men
Earned and left by great men
Yet we in our pleasures kept it playing outside
Alas
Childhood passed
Now we don’t know where freedom lies
Wizardry. Mystique. Urban legend like almost even. Dark figures in trench coats at night kinda stuff. Appearing to disappear and reappear. Maybe it's just me and my over-active imagination, lol. I think "dope" is the word hey. Well done brother.
I'll take "Dope" any day... hey wait a minute that sounds kinda bad doesn't it? xD
Thanks for the compliment Garth, that overactive imagination threw in a view I hadn't thought of and it was quite nice. A wizard is never late, nor is he early. he arrives precisely when he means to.
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