He sits and he waits for the world
To grow quiet
And yet the noise he hears
Is in his mind, while the earth is still
His heart beats to its last
To its insufferable final count
Every one resonating in a silence
Only he can understand
He sits and he waits for the world
To stop spinning
For time to slow, and settle
His thoughts are his own
Silent prison
-
Author:
MrNobody40 (
Offline) - Published: May 14th, 2018 07:27
- Category: Sad
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: SLR, Caity Calvary
Offline)
Comments2
A very strong inward vision..... so familiar........
I spend most of my days trapped in thought. It really does feel like a prison sometimes.
That's what introverts do............ but it's also a great place to hide........
I can really relate to this. The mind CAN be a prison. Really like this. Great post!
Thank you very much for your kind words
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.