Sunday, 5 April 2026

Lobotomised

 


Lobotomised

thoughts

seep to the floor,

as another hole is torn

into the hope

we once held so sure.

 

The sound that poured

into the cracks from the void

have now soiled this earth.

So please try to avoid.

 

We are now no longer

mostly harmless.

 

We are fierce and dumb.

 

Our thoughts run,

but they don’t cling on

to anything good,

They only think

with the gun.

 

Little plastic army men

playing war,

but the weapons are not

pretend, and it is

real blood that pours.

 

Someone turned out the lights...

 

No more life.

 

A sad goodbye

as a mother cries,

all dressed in black,

mourning the loss.

 

They only ever

return in a box,

or with any life 

knocked from their eyes

from the constant shock

of the missile fire.

The sparkle in your eyes - NaPoWrimo poem 14

 


Taught safety in

hiding away.

 

Don’t shine,

don’t let anyone see

the sparkle

in your eyes.

 

Don’t let them see you rise.

 

They will bring you down

before you can

even let out a sigh.

 

Self-worth

in keeping silent,

 

or is it self-preservation?

 

When released emotions

would mean the earth,

but letting them settle

always seems safest.

 

Self-doubt plays a role.

Would my words dig a hole?

Would my heart fill that hole?

And would the topsoil

stain my fingers for eternity?

 

So, I roll on the rising tide.

 

Some would say

I hide behind a mask,

 

but I speak my truth aloud

every time I write.

 

Is it a test?

 

To see how much

we’ve grown accustomed

to second best. To see ourselves

as not worthy

of the time invested?

 

But inside I know

that I believe in me,

so, who is the imposter?

The mask I wear

or the hidden version

that only a few see.

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