The Voice

by The Cowl Editor


Poetry


 

 

Can’t See the flow of the colors 

Stopped Feeling the breath of the wind 

Hollowness calling your name 

Do you fall back in? 

 

Come to me 

 

Looking around no one’s there  

So back to the grind instead 

Put pencil to paper and write beautiful words 

But the creative voice can’t be heard 

 

He’s not here 

 

You hear it again, but no one’s around 

So put on some music to drown it out 

And maybe in the songs 

There’s some inspiration to be found 

 

Not so fast 

 

Sweating profusely, droplets falling on loose leaf 

Hearing voices when you’re home alone 

Thinking about picking up the phone 

But you don’t, at the risk of sounding crazy  

 

Good Idea, they won’t believe you 

 

The voice has started booming 

The walls beginning to close in  

Drowning you in insecurities 

Thinking, “Am I really such a bad human?” 

 

Yes, you are 

 

Crying uncontrollably  

Wondering how he got a hold of you 

This feeling, who let him through 

Thought he only belonged to the old you 

 

Nah, me and you, we’re forever

 

 

 


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