i spin the words of hollow men
amid the bright and hollow lights:
an emptiness i bring to life,
the absence of fresh air and kites –
disease, it canters, restlessly,
i take it in, a long-lost friend,
then share the wisdom i’ve imbibed
of broken schools and hollow men
another night, another class,
another silence i will pass
as understanding what i know
and being where i mean to go
i spin the words of hollow men,
for once i had what now is lost:
the summer warms the world outside
a classroom rimed
by artificial
frost
your poetry-you work on it-there’s something happening- a flame is being kindled out of darkness-keep writing.
And silent followers will hold their breath to guard that flame. Perhaps it will light a path within a darkness of their own.