Silence. By CpSingleton © 2014
The sweetest sound of silence,
That is rarer to me than gold,
Lies somewhere in a dreamworld,
Where its loving arms unfold.
I hear it between the rustling
Of the errant plastic bags,
As they flap about the streets,
With the tab-ends and the rags.
I hear it in the drawling screeching
Of the local abrasive drunks.
The quiet joy underneath
Their bruised and bloodied chunks.
It resonates behind the grinding
Growl of a punctured car exhaust.
The smiles on the back passengers
Painted on and forced.
Wherever I stand to listen
The sound I need is everywhere.
Around the explosion of a bomb.
Inside the hatred on the air.
It walks across a busy road
Hand in hand with me.
That sound of absolutely nothing
Setting my world free.