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Silent Cry
I watch the shadows fade away,
into a cloud of dust,
Hoping that my voice will scream,
knowing that I must.
Can someone tell me, tell me why,
noone hears my silent cry?
Is it just me, or does it seem
that I am all alone?
You hear the seconds tick away,
like footsteps down the hall.
You wonder if they're here for you
or if they're there at all.
Can someone tell us, tell us why,
noone hears our silent cries?
Is it just me, or could it be
that I am not alone?
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This article has 15 comments.
Your poetry is very satisfying. And no way are you alone. I started writing years ago because it gave me a way to cry my heart out and stay strong at the same time.
It changed me to voice those silent cries.
The flow you have is unique, and I could pick out your style out of a hundred poems after reading just three of yours.
I've always had issues with rhyming; can you give me a few tips? And I'd appreciate it if you checked out some of my stuff. Thanks! =)
You have a real knack for sensory description. When you say a clock "ticks" like footsteps, I can easily hear someone's heels clicking down an empty, echoing hallway. Maybe past a closet where you're chained up, or something. At any rate, my imagination runs with it. That's what I like about your poetry.
I've read most of your other poems, too. What I love is what seems to be your main theme: the paradox of losing innocence but not idealism. I relate to that. I can't even emphasize how much I relate to that, and my guess is that a lot of other people do, too. Hearing someone else express in words what I've only thought but not had the talent to write is cathartic. Like, "YES. That. Someone GETS it!"
SO! Please keep writing. I'll keep checking back. :)
