Displaced
October 7, 2011
Home is not home
Oh well of poison water
Left on a doorstep
Outcast, displaced
The outside is quiet
The inside is dark
Left to decay
Abandoned, Forgotten
Nobody knows it
Nobody cares
Selective ignorance
Unknown, unimportant
Bright eyes shine
The quest to be known
Ends in disappointment
Unfulfilled, thirsty
~wbv
I Am A Worm
September 2, 2011
I’m a worm, a snake,
Living under the ground.
I’m tolerated,
Because I don’t make a sound.
Surface dwellers bask,
In the freedom they give,
To the ones who aren’t shackled,
By the lies they must live.
The darkness they love,
Those dwellers of the night,
In the shadow of truth,
Created by light…
Their hearts, lined in hate,
Full of love for their own,
While the wounds that they cause,
Will never be shown.
Because worms and snakes
Live under the ground.
They are tolerated,
Because they don’t make a sound.
So the wounds grow deeper,
The coffee grows stronger,
The happy surface dwellers,
Will gloat a little longer,
Living out their lives,
Never hearing a sound,
From the worms and the snakes,
Living under the ground.
~wbv
