Where Do The Words Go?
Where do all the words go?
Do they pack their bags and leave
not even a note?
Do they disappear without warning?
Are they battling on a field of incomplete thought?
Is there a place where they meet and conspire
to suddenly rebel and leave we writers in a hell
of ungraspable explanation and expression?
Where do they go? Do they hide in books, and journals,
and on crumbled pieces of rejected lines and stanzas
lying on uncleaned floors and untidy rooms of loneliness?
Where do they go?
I often find mine congregating and conspiring to disappear
and leave me desperate for their companionship. Its a lonely
place when words walk out the door, slamming it in your face
and laughing at your foolishness and pain.
I think my words go deep inside that place I am so afraid to search...
The door to the deepest caverns of my soul.
They play cards there with my emotions dealing, shuffling, bluffing
until I fold my hand and walk away with empty pockets of peace.
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
Read 659 times
Written on 2006-12-22 at 16:51
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