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I tried

I tried to talk to my pen,

Maybe it will hear me.

I tried to talk to my paper

Maybe it will feel my thoughts.

I tried to talk to the ink

Maybe it will lay itself 

I tried ….

No one is listening 

I tried to talk to my fingers 

To hold the pen more gentle

But instead it’s grip was dreadful 

I tried to bath my thoughts in wine

Maybe drunk they will fall themselves on the paper

But nothing,

No one is listening.


Yelling in the land of the deaf 

I tried to talk to myself

But myself and my thoughts were to drunk to listen


Tired and alone I stopped trying 

Then ….

This came out . 

Published inPoezii

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