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dark ears
by Stuart Shilton
The night listens
To the radio, to the Clash
Of wills inside my head.
To the anger leftover by a hundred
Unspoken words and a thousand
Unforgettable moments slipped past my memory
Listening to schizophrenic speeches
I make, dictating my future for
Tomorrow. The night listens knowing
Tomorrow comes in an hour and
my night strength wanes in the light
the night listens for the sounds
of troubled youth and ill gotten
wisdom, but all the night hears is
a door slam, footsteps, the scratch
of a pen.
But still it listens
01/07/2011 Posted on 01/07/2011
Copyright © 2025 Stuart Shilton
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 11/24/17 at 02:10 AM I suspect many of us who write here have a form of conflict in our mind! How we write, who we write for or to, the feelings we wish to hide or display, and so many other things I haven't even seen in my own poetry. |
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