Walls

By Withering petals

 Standing upside down on a ceiling made of glass
                      Hurried footsteps quicken.................. with the sound of a gasp
                                    let out of a body not too far under  water
                        
              And the voice is crystal like, chiseled like winter

A high pitch scream pierces the puncture
                   And a bullet wound tethers on favored acupuncture

                                                                           Eyes Wide Shut Silence the Silence

                                          And lungs fill with liquid acid
                                     As the glass cracks under the pressure
                                              Of a dissipating endeavor.....



.       .         .       .      .     .   .   . . . .......Liquidating the dreams of hopeless efforts 
                                                                                                                                              Drenched in things Come to pass
Smelling of  the regurgitation
 of symphonated similes
 of unspoken calligraphy
 uttered in blood

 And the laughter of a child continues 
                                                                                                                  down the hall.

and we are oblivious to the ceiling,
trapped eternally by the walls.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2011 Withering petals
Published on Thursday, March 31, 2011.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "Walls"

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  • Meadowhawk On Sunday, April 3, 2011, Meadowhawk (160)By person wrote:

    Searing visuals. Well written.

  • A former member wrote: Wow! Horrific images of dread & inevitable injury. As a devout claustrophobic I can really relate to being 'trapped'. Great words.

  • serenesavage91 On Thursday, March 31, 2011, serenesavage91 (33)By person wrote:

    oh wow, this was so beautiful, Upside down on a glass ceiling, fabulous line! I love it so much ha ha.

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