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The Big Rain
Strangled by the showerhead
She answers but she doesn't speak
She's too busy staring at the wall
Making sure it doesn't leak.
She sways and sinks, continues to think
Of steps and stones beneath our bones
And times abandoned long ago
The paint is peeling oh
So
Slow.
Every moment we take for granted,
Is another moment dark and slanted.
Their words and turns have all gone rancid,
But in them we still lie enchanted.
It's hard to remember we aren't forever -
In that thought most don't take pleasure.
A thoughtless life is what they treasure,
Even when that life is gone what
So
Ever.
Movement stops with a deafening flop;
Strings tangled and twisted - how could anyone ever have missed it?
We are blind to every mask,
Why make the effort to try and last?
The wall has cracked - a thunderous flood
No means of control, a marionette
Much too late the strings detach
She's hanging limp, cold
And
Wet.
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This poem was inspired by what a friend of mine said when he called his sister. She picked up but didn't say anything, and he said "She answers but she doesn't speak!" It struck me as perfect poetry material, and this is what came of it. While it took a darker turn than I had originally intended, the message is still pretty clear: we need to dig deeper into what happens around us, pay attention and listen to people we otherwise wouldn't, because we only have so long and everyone deserves to be heard.