Inhale.
Smoke burns.
Hands.
Pain from
Creating
Unseen,
Dust-collecting,
Pieces of
Mediocrity.
Circles upon circles.
Calloused
Fingerprints
Concealing
Identity.
Agoraphobia.
The world is
Falling apart.
No one cares
About no one.
About nothing.
No revival
Of the written word.
No pages of
Classic literature.
Only mind-controlling
Screens
With a hypnotizing
Effect.
Real thoughts
Erased
By an insidious
Creature.
Humanity
Slipping quietly
Into oblivion
While the world
Spins out of
Control.
There are the circles
Upon circles.
Callouses
Upon callouses.
Hands. Pain.
Smoke burns.
Inhale.
2022
About the Creator
Elizabeth Arnold
I’m a storyteller. I write for the love of writing. I feel a wave of excitement whenever I buy a new notebook and a pack of bic crystal pens because I know those blank pages hold wonderous possibilities. It’s about time I share them.
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More stories from Elizabeth Arnold and writers in Poets and other communities.
In Search Of Poetry’s Revival
I am a poet. I have been, since as long as I can remember. I formally started writing poetry at the age of 14, inspired by the death of my hero, John Lennon. Prior to that, my best friend and I wrote song lyrics about silly crushes we had on boys in elementary school. I guess that’s when the poetry really started. I have self-published three books of poetry that really didn’t sell. I mean, friends and family bought them, but I am totally clueless how to market to the public. I didn’t make much money nor did my words travel very far.
By Elizabeth Arnold6 years ago in Poets
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