Corvallis, August 14th, 2022 – P#782
sometimes, there’s nothing to say
not that there wouldn’t be anything
to talk about:
for I could say all I want,
but talking about it, would that not imply
a social component?
so shall I cry
into the wilderness?
for I really feel
and yet, who listens
in this world of so much noise
and little attention?
for everything we may care about
is known already, and hanging over us all
in deafening silence
do hear we or not?
want we to hear?
if there would be nothing, or almost nothing,
we could be doing?
thus sometimes I feel,
I’d only remind people of their own impotence:
and who, pray tell, wants to hear that?
and thus, sometimes, my heart’s so heavy with the pain of the world,
I cry in silence, shall not speak, and calmly look at the oncoming storm
that no one else has the stomach to see any longer
but I won’t stay silent forever