Shallow & Broken

Mindless banter, useless dribbles some say; only… only eyes fail to see.
Words earnest spill forth; nonsensical that some say bring forth no thought.
Few listen though; even fewer heed the warnings of such a simple call.
Worry not now with these hands clean, washed by the blood that dribble wrought.

Again there rises no sense to these words that fall haplessly and to come into play.
For crashing are the sorrowful souls I see which pound the dark rocks below.
This witness came forth pure and unabashed; too late now for them of this day.

How shallow and broken; misunderstood; this heart should feel no shame.
But it does, and it doesn’t, for many scoffed and calling it a fool’s game.

So why go on when pearls fall from tired lips only to be trounced underfoot?

Shush now cried the old man, you don’t hear and you never understood.

Therefore why trouble this already weary and burdened soul?

When words fill the skies for naught and vision paint pictures so bold.

Should not this mind just lay to rest the quiet passage of the day.

Should not solace be found in the quietness when this mindless banter fades away?

J. Allen Wilson © 1-2008