A curse for the noise which surrounds us
bends upon itself in the back of my mouth.
Ingenuous lovers and rebellious youth
Articulate the dissention we have come to believe in.
For all that is spoken, sociable soldiers
still pity the wordless, blind, and inconsiderate,
there is little emotion offered, and none accepted.
We stand our ground, there is pride and courage
where words have served so little for others.
If only for the argument we will commit to,
is there no reason to simply stare, to shrug
our shoulders in disgust for the logic and reason
this society looks up to?
We have already once given up words,
the answers were ceded by force and ignorance
when hesitance drew anger and hate.
Instead, allow the correspondence to remain
half-finished at our desk,
there is no purpose behind writing,
no fascination with the story
in which life, the lie, is loved
such that the world has stopped turning.