Poem – “The Mute Bird” – Romanticism – 1/15/2021

Does she belong
Where the world cries the longest

Vowels, for her contemplation?
She dies
In a long sentence,
Able to bleed
By a frozen shoreline,

Broken and disbelieved
Of the sickness, in mind.

And unable to fathom
Wishful thinking
From the crimson disbelief.
A mind closed by two walls,
With the others
Embraced by a silenced heart,
With a drumbeat that mimicks

What could have been.

And pain
Drives storms against
Her uncovered form,
Plastered against the floor
Holding echoes, no more
Than the thunder that seals shut
The faces, that never gave

Attention, to the beauty, to save.

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