A ringing in my ears, sitting in another room
can't handle the discussion, alienating gloom
fear of schism, lack of understanding with those
who have been so near, so helpful, so close

head landing somewhere, wish I could go to bed
hurt and fear when people don't communicate
argument doesn't work, it separates

too many Glayvas, too much beer to hear 
another's point of view - how to save the situation
I don't know, I'm asking you

won't you give me a hand instead of shouting me down?
I don't have your crown of gold, I'm not yet sold 
on your idea, your elation.
Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem