A voice echoing all around - through every corner
with no crevice left untouched, and the shouts heard all round everywhere
the words stop as the tongue pauses in thirst
what am I trying to say?
no mass scramble of consonants and vowels and punctuation marks
can decode the words tumbling
out, out of my lips and onto the paper with the grey flow of a pencil stream
stream out, directly under the gaze of a brown eye
following the pencil and the paper
eager to share in the adventure, tarry along
to hear the echo left -faint- in every corner
who knows if I've spoken correctly?
but it's out now
my tongue, parched, trying to consume
one poem at a time it's written - Y
and the remnants of shouts bouncing around weakly
whispers all that's left.