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The Crush
August 22, 2008
Time to go,
Time to get out
The radio playing
people shouting.
Breathing slowy
Keeping busy
eyes striaght forward
Everyone is losing.
A mix of colors
No one is smiling.
A dreaded promise,
kept.
No one talks
Not a whisper
comes to my ears.
The world is sinking.
A little boy
No where to go.
Desperate eyes,
needing lost love.
No mother to find,
He cries out in saddness.
A giant hand,
sorrowful faces.
No more feeling.
No more knowing.
A blind push.
Everyone goes flying.
The world crumbles.
It falls.
The boy is still crying.
The mother is still gone.
No more.
The Crush.
© Chuck K., Marblehead, MA
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This article has 2 comments.
miranda said...
on Feb. 4 2009 at 5:24 am
I love this poem
Its deep and haunting almost but you
still make it amazing
you are a great writer
Its deep and haunting almost but you
still make it amazing
you are a great writer
bookworm013 said...
on Nov. 5 2008 at 6:35 am
It elicits something deep inside of you, something afraid of the pain and sorrow. Something that wishes to help, to run, to hide, to scream. Yet it is still shrouded in mystery-the real story is unknown. All we know is the pain, the sense of loss. I loved it!