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The man stands behind the curtain ,
for in silence he stands ,
no body speaks to him .
no one even knows he is there .

The  moon and sun rise ,
then fall ,
for no one even knows he is there .
The birds fly unto their nests as winter chatter brings ,
the  starlings and flinch ***** their tiny wings .
He looks out and the clouds and sun play hide and seek .
Still he says nothing ,
still he won’t speak .
No food or water does he eat or drink ,
no table does he dine with a beautiful lady to pass his time .
And fear not his mood does not tell ,
of the darkness he feels inside his own hell .
There is no light in his house and no one knows ,
that in silence he cry’s for the young and the old .
The clock ticks another day has passed ,
and after many months his beloved walks past .
He smiles .
Then a knock on the door and his heart starts to pump ,
with loving arms they kiss and ****** ,
her flowers hit the floor ,
and the doors slammed shut .
 Dec 2018 ronnie
Becca
red tears
 Dec 2018 ronnie
Becca
it hurts
but at least
I don’t have to
think about you
 Dec 2018 ronnie
Sofie
goodbye
 Dec 2018 ronnie
Sofie
I'm not afraid to say goodbye -
the word feels numb on my tongue
for I've said it so many times
 Dec 2018 ronnie
Elizabeth
And when the time comes my tears won't be falling like rain for it will be warm tea and fresh honey streaming down my cheeks.
I hope one day I will bathe in sunflowers and new love - I'm tired of the dead leaves that burden my body, they soak in like fresh coconut on my skin.
I sit underwater where time stops for a second, and I am at peace. I hope one day I can run into rushing waterfalls without begging for that moment of altered reality. I hope one day I bathe in roses instead of my sorrows.
What do you hope for?
If ever happiness
knocks at my door.
How will I
recognise?
The sound of delight.

Will it howl
like the blowing wind?
Or rustle as
the woods and trees?
Will it be
like splashing water?
Or the pelting rain,
on the window pane?

Maybe it will
just creep in silence.
Echoing in the
wells of silence.
I try and keep searching for happiness.
 Jul 2018 ronnie
ryn
Windtalker
 Jul 2018 ronnie
ryn
There was no one...
So I spoke as if a secret
into the wind.

I told it,

“You may blow your skeptic tune.
Your quiet whistles of doubt.”

“Exhale if you must,
upon the countenance of her face.
Run your invisible fingers
through her hair...
Taste her lips like you would
the surface of the lake in the sun-shy morns.”

“Then you would dispel all disbelief.
You would take these words I say,
and know why confide in you.
You would know why I had fallen.
And you would know why
you would then be my messenger...”

“So that you could word the song
I could never sing.
You could caress her face
when my fingers could not.
You could kiss and fill her lungs
with all that she needs when I am gone.”


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