Hollow Remedy

To each is poison,


a troubled mind inside another's head, aggrandizes a small world.


an unwanted joy in feeling no more, thwarts a nearby ponderer.


he whom is not where; wistfully searches to revive a hope he once killed, walks in circles leading to his home of nowhere,


the air is briskly warm, as the gobs of voices blather sage,


such familiar chaos, hazing into calm,


misery loves needing not company, for the powerless reverberate in non-existence.


to each is their own poison,


unaffected heartedly,


wholely in sick love,


living for despair.



  • orchidee

    Yep, makes no sense to me - clear as mud! So an excellent poem. heehee.

    • RiverJordan

      Happy you like Orch.

    • Unsub


      it may on the surface appear to not make sense until you drop below the waterline & submerge in the imagery of the words. There in the crystal waters a sense of the depths becomes apparent...well to me it does but I do have a warped mind.


      • RiverJordan

        Keen comment Unsub, glad you enjoyed the warped calling.👍

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