Noise

When it’s quiet, I forget.
I forget how the noise
drains my energy and
renders me mute, immobile
laid helpless by
the crushing sound
of a helicopter far overhead
of a television two rooms away
of a child’s yell in frustration
through a closed door
muffled, muted, hated
immutable, inescapable
blasted noise.

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2 thoughts on “Noise

  1. Mirada

    I am bombarded with noise where I live–it is draining indeed, sometimes pushes me to the edge of insanity. Great poetry you craft here.

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