Jeanne Fiedler | Free Poems

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    Desolate Nights

    My nights are spent
    in chilling fright.
    The sounds hum
    over the excitement.
    I look beyond…
    to find awareness
    outside the misty
    windows.
    I hear sirens, birds wildly swaying,
    crying, whispers of horror and
    gore and crimes of hatred.
    I’m not far from the sounds.
    They are right near me in the
    walls.
    They are hollering, wailing,
    punching…
    Where are the music,
    the love tales, the parties?
    I’ve disassociated myself
    from them.
    I live in fright
    from night to night.
    The mockingbird
    is at my perch…
    mocking me…

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    • Desolate Nights

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