A stomach of stone that sinks in the river
While the current of laughter flows all around
and the foam and the ripples of insults still linger
long after the moment soaks into the ground.
So sail me away to an island of worry,
where the gulls cry out with mocking and glee
and the crash of the waves is a constant reminder
that from your derision I’ll never be free.
Long have I walked in the glades and the mountains.
Searching for peace when there’s none to be found
and the quiet and the calm doesn’t settle the raging
of cacophonous noise in the absence of sound.
Shall we now wander along through the sand.
Shall we wade through the river and stroll through the glade
and when you have seen what your words have created
will you gaze up in wonder at what you have made?