Thoughts of a Violinist Giraffe

How do you speak for the byways and hidden vales of a sleeping city? As the billows of pale blue, tainted                                    smog grips the throat and chokes the words until an uncomfortable silence peppered by sickly coughs blankets the streets in industrial ignorance,                 strained, ember-tinted, dull eyes peer out in sentry-form alarm, fearing almost-morbid intent to punish, lurking like serpents in the alleyways. A smile is silenced by the grip                         of violence and degradation. The wise, outwardly clothed, seem no different from the vagrant soul. A plague of greed and gluttony                             makes victims of many. How do you speak for all these? How ...

I write my pains as poetry - mostly to hide the fact I'm feeling the loneliness in your silence. Ironic, then, that others, when they chance upon the lines and verse, find solace: "I'm exceedingly glad I'm not the only one", they say. Well I'm certainly not. Glad, that is. How can I find comfort in the fact that others feel the same? I see subtle signs, and it takes all I have not to call you out on it. I don't want to call you out on it. I just want things to change for the better, not for the worse. Not knowing is breaking me: I run all the possible reasons in my head fast enough to send my heart to cardiac arrest. I'm feeling the distance and I can't tell if it's because I'm shaking and terrified of what it means or if I'm reacting to the possibility that this was never meant to be after all. But what I'm writing is poetry - for all you know, this is all just fiction for you to feed your eyes...

I am lost in the turbulence of thought, meandering through the byways of drenched despondency. Words left unspoken take opportunity to ravage my heart with abuses until the bruises bleed outwardly - so to speak. But one thought - alas, how pure the thought! - of you has cured me. All is calm, all is settled. ~~~~~~ Short poem this time around. Not everything has to be like an essay. Cheers!