They talk.
For hours on end,
Each word tumbling after the next
In a race to exit the mouth.
I listen.
For hours on end,
My brain taking in every word
Every phrase
As a new substance
In need of keeping
Remembering.
I always listen.
I make sure they feel
understood,
That they feel
Important.
But when I speak
No one hears it
But the silence that surrounds me.
Just me
And the air
Having our own conversation
In our own world.
People talk
And talk
And expect us to listen.
But you say one word
And they're deaf to it
Blind even.
People always seek attention.
Never think to offer.
YOU ARE READING
Life Is
PoetryMy own depiction of life as I view it told through a series of freestyle poems
