The Bitter Silence of Sorrow

She sat staring, out the window

Cold was visible as frost on the glass

She wished to escape this place

The room with the view

To the clouds in the sky

Thoughts circle inside her head

The story, she narrated to herself

The emotion blending with her sorrow

Like a raven‘s meaning, unrest

Ensued upon her psyche

A fist, she clenched it tight

As she began to wear a frown

Her body did a slide, slumping

Against a wall, hard as a rock

Would there be any to save her?

When she chose not to speak?

Bitter silence.

© E.M. Kingston 2022 – All Rights Reserved.


This was written for The Sunday Whirl Wordle #536.

The words are italicized in the poem, and they are:

Image Courtesy of The Sunday Whirl

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