More and more trees have seemed to go by,
Each one barren and dead, bleak and dry.
The ground doesn't falter, free of grass and leaves,
The wind remains silent, the clouds only grieve.
I continue to walk, to walk, to walk.
The silence ends suddenly by the chime of a clock.
Once, twice, thrice. I stop and listen on.
Four, five, six. The silence now gone.
Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.
Finally at thirteen, it stops itself.
The ring lingers, the silence soon filling in.
Though I remain standing, still as a man of tin.
In front of me lays a scene, similar to the last.
The two boys of young run, constant and steadfast.
They laugh and giggle, chasing each other,
Neither paying mind to the scars on the other.
Their stomachs sticking to their ribs and skin pale.
Rags hanging from them, it's purpose only to fail.
Yet their faces remain smiling, happy and gay.
I find myself turning from them, and heading on until their giggles fade away.
YOU ARE READING
Quiet Us
Mystery / ThrillerA list of lines that line with lists of clues to find to solve the gist. This is a story I wrote, made out of poems. The story itself is truly a mystery, and I ask you to go along with the main character as you discover his backstory, the adventure...
