Full year and more the treadmill race I run
spewing the words and numbers though my voice is silent.
I speak, I write such brilliance and such grace
as ghosts can muster faceless in the glass.

My eloquence is bold with other voices
but mute I stand in speechless self defence
clawing the air with futile scraping motions
no strength of flesh to scream with. Such is my genius.


About therevr

A human being, striving to become more so.

Posted on August 9, 2006, in Old, Poetry, Reflective. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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