ANGUISH

what is left of me, are the pieces
of stilled anguish, unbearable
to the leavings of a gutless wonder

what you have done, can't you see-answer me

I am nothing-no more, like a shell, hollow
my blankness creeps, unable to continue
this deep sense of a careful loss, unable to close

what you have done, can't you see- answer me

the realization, of time and again, as if standing still
knowing no matter how hard I try, always the dead air
now I am, if nothing more, still questionable at most

of the sadness, dense, un-moveable, building up, I ask of it
should I whisper, simply pray, will it matter, into empty spaces
the deepest recess, above my head; in hopes any word of you

-will come to me , that's what you have done

By Michael Perry