I squeeze all the silence
into one memory and
all I can do is try
to forget.

Sad songs fill my eyes,
and images seem to
blur as fake smiles
and nods escape
my face.

So I linger near
the clouds and
all the blue has
bleed into gray.

The black coat
rests on my shoulders
and the weight seems
so much lighter.

And all the tragedy
is a diary of a
broken record
that won't change
or alter the jilted
frame that stares
back at me.

09/28/2009

Posted on 09/29/2009
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin