Where are my mind crafted inventions
My cure to **** the triggers , stop the white noise
Spinning thoughts , anger blocking the poets -
peripheral vision , angry dogs at the foot of the bed
Words that add color to black and white -
landscapes , a lake of images for a
child in his fifties , nailed to the weathered -
pier by his own disability
My back to the hard crowd
Naked and ashamed
Faced with the killing night
Unwavering noise that only -
I can hear
One bullet .. Sound or fear ?