Quiet Grief

Cries of boyhood angst
Are free 
From my bitten tongue 

Yet no truth prevails
No heartache can crawl 
From the ruins 
Of my war-torn conscience 

The toll
Of harbored sorrow 
Shall beckon forever more 

Never daring to clamor 
For the waiting arms 
Of the crude and heinous world

Never to draw 
The care of roving eyes 
That have seen 
All of the same

Tried and True Currents

 
Folks carry on
Like passing vessels
Loyal to their breeze
Their tried and true currents

A scene
I retain from afar
As I flood with reluctance
In the flourish of mundane melodies

Before
Each sorrowful endeavor
I recede fearfully

Before the silent
Inevitable sinking
I retreat
With the greatest haste

Letting horizons fade
And their joyless songs
Capsize forever more

Paper Walls

 
Thin walls
Lend me the world
The ills of kinship
All trials endured

I brace in the swell
Of transient memories
First world gossip
The flare of household names

Through frailest ivory
Coarse words intrude
Coiling the solitude
That ensnares my peace of mind

Racing thoughts
Blend
With a flurry of everyday musings

My name
Casually spent
To garnish every memory spun

Sullen
I cannot reply
With a mind paralyzed
By the inner thrash of panic

Rationed Loneliness (My first attempt at rhyming)

In blessed gloom
I stowed away
My quiet vessel
Where I toil and fray

The dreary open
Surrounds, and pummels my agony
Wretchedly marooned
Rotting and enslaved by atrophy

This solitude Ive earned
Swallows, the fabric of brotherhood
Crafting my comfort in emptiness
Conditioned, to be blissfully misunderstood

I ration this loneliness
Treasuring its deathly bloom
Where I speak softly, of my worldly ills
In the arms of blessed gloom