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THIS IS MY LOT, BEAUTIFUL STRANGERS.
Can't you tell? That the loudest scream Is in the eyes looking down at dinner time; In the tear drops who stream Down incognito, Like a parenthesis around a mouth shut. It is in the words clad loosely in whispers, Like 'don't go', and 'good-bye'. It is in a veiling chuckle not revealing Like the one you seem to sing without a rhyme. It is in a naked finger once symbolled With unceasing eternity, And in a swollen eye. It is in a weary head hung low. In the chilly thrill of speed. In silence. Couldn't you tell? My loudest scream Laid bare and invisible Was in what I asked- It was in 'why'. TonFlyingHigh!9:37 PM *** |
Behind The Wheel; 
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