July 11, 2011 by Employee of the Fukin Month
Drops of rain
Specs of sand
Wrapped together in a whirlwind.
Patterns that happen
Over and over again
Through it all
Rings loud and clear
All want to see
All want hear
Some will listen
While others agree
A few though
Cannot sit passively by
For them – questions arise
As the voice continues to speak
The it’s messages aren’t as easily absorbed
Their thoughts continue…
What does this mean?
What more can the voice possibly say?
How does this affect me?
One of the few parts them self from the crowd
Then waves a hand to the rest before saying:
“Forget this – I’ll choose my own way…”
While seemingly turning to walk away.
All Rights Reserved and Protected By (C) Miks Poems 2011