Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Man Comments
Rating: ★5.0
Silence is how one addresses the need for depth; when poverty for words becomes a mere exercise of virtue, a rite of passage to scars. Small wounds clot with time, until all that is left is the stiff coating that shreds off at the slightest movement.
Forgetting is so easy, once scars have ceased to be.
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7/19/2025 10:40:33 PM # 1.0.0
silence, virtue, the inner need, Armed with a large piece of wood, your claim to happiness, you march in slow, faltering steps, into the abyss they call Death, at the fullness they call Time- you are well versed in Einsteins theories. well read and write such ideas. like your poem very much. tony