Sunday, December 21, 2014

The Turtle

The turtle slowly releases her head,
looks around and searches...
searches
like we all search
to solve the enigma,
that cryptic puzzle without answers,
a swaying head searching
instinctively
for continuation
to just keep living.

The hospital is anonymous
like all hospitals have to be,
corridors and meaningless machines,
a world where life is
absence of tears,
where masks are the
uniform,
and eyes can't seep for
fear of the void,
knowledge of that dark.

Birds scatter from the road
as our car devours sorrow,
and our hearts scour depths
beyond laughter,
despair without dreams.

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