Revolving Door

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55 words
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The silent scream of strangers

assaults my senses from all sides,

impassioned pleas for help

from deep behind blanks stares

crying, begging kindness

and inclusion,

any relief from isolation

of soul and self.

But weary of rebuff and humiliation

they keep quiet, look away,

avoiding possible salvation

the fear outweighs the burden of the pain.

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flyguy69flyguy69over 19 years ago
I hear the scream in the turnstile!

Edvard Munch put it on canvas, you put it on paper. Wonderful poem, TT2U.

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