The words that came so easily,
Now leave me dead in wake,
My mind it seems so empty,
As if this will be my last fate.
A head with so many highways,
All have come to a screeching halt,
Pileups a mile high,
Bodies everywhere in sight.
No one loner remains alive,
To carry a single thought,
No one to clean up the dead;
What has always been is naught.
I hope this will not be,
The last poem inked from my head,
There’s so much more that needs to be written,
So much more that needs to be said…
I hope this silence comes to an End.
angel lockheart
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silence-362/
