Blank



Everything moves slow;
whose forward thinking goes to past?
Those eyes cast forever down, avoiding
the strangely familiar.
Echoing person-shell.
Cowering inside a flesh cavity,
truth in lead and silent pages.
Me?
Or free verse scribbles,
muttering forward on their own.
Slashed and ground in pulpy points,
Period.
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Submitted on March 10, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

14 sec read
2

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABCDEFGFHIJK
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 302
Words 48
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 12

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    "Blank" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/67055/blank>.

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