Google+ Followers

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Lonely Gallery

Today, a second day
of moping
Yesterday I realized
my words were no longer
being read
When once they were
my conduit of expression,
my catharsis.
There were those that shared
my mind, my heart and would
share with me their’s
No longer do they seem
to hear me laugh or sing
share my day time reverie
or night time dreams
They seem to care no
longer for when I’m lonely
or hear my tear drops fall
The pain and angst I feel
of unfulfilled social causes
fill my book of writ
They no longer tease or
have anywhere to go
My words are sprawled about,
strewn, complacent, now
apathetically floating in cyberspace
Used to use their colors
to paint the pictures
on my life’s canvas
But what’s the use
if no one visits my gallery
I may not be a Matisse
or Vincent van Gogh,
appealing or not
but just the visit,
someone just to care