Noise ( Third Revision)

March 10, 2010


Voices keep gossiping,

don’t listen.

Just hear them.

Muffle the noise,

observe intention,

then: forget.

Remembering is a sticky thing,

like  syrup from the Chicle tree

where rocking into a deep sleep,

you sang the song within:

My favorite place
is inside my head,
where I can see you
vain and scared.

With all your bias
tainted by your fears,
and all your judgments,
of yesteryears.

My favorite place
is not in your head,
Where I can see me,
Lame and untamed.

With all your bias,
see me tainted by your fears,
I see your judgments 
of yesteryear.

 My favorite place
is here, in my head
where, to your noise:
I have grown deaf.

visit my site: www.workingBea.org


One comment

  1. […] Third Revision […]

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