Talking Walls

If walls could talk

I would listen.

They would probably make sense,

perversely, of course.

 

Standing tall,

for years still to pass.

Humanity bores me.

No money; no qualifications, no prospects, fall out, fall in; get drunk; and suffer.

 

I’m sick of mankind

and it’s problematic attitude.

Its magical powers to deceit

and poison and corrupt.

 

I would rather talk to walls.

Be alone.

Throw stones into black ponds

and watch the fish dance with the ripples.

 

Nothing here makes sense.

Concrete collides with tears of dirt,

Running thick in s**t,

for nothing.

 

If only we could talk to walls,

to stone set in blasted memory.

I hate society,

But why do I speak for it?

Reviews

[Sherbs Dreaming Tree Of..]

Amazing words my friend
Amazing flow and structure to this poem