Читать книгу The Ivy Entangles - D J Gill - Страница 10

The memory is still there, those endless stares.

The silence of the dark, the time to be spent,

Correcting your flaws, one somehow learnt,

To internalise, not to rationalise, not to sensationalise.

The fault was yours, that feeling of hurt,

Made you who you are, a person that not many really knows.

So as the dark silent night’s return, there is a sense of horror.

Individuals replaced by people, replaced by organisations,

Standing behind mission statements, espousing the truth.

There is a faint sound, of the rain on the roof.

The wind picks up, unsure or not caring whom it wakes.

Always more pressing matters, even though not our fault.

We step back again, and free fall, until they remember it all!