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August 31, 2010

another depressing poem by Laura

metronome

She had never known isolation
until it came tumbling 
out of the sky, a falling bird,
into her lap.

Time was irrelevant,
yet all that mattered.
A note of music;
a melody to drown in.

Her fragile heart 
now beats feather soft against her ribs
after mere minutes of neglect.

She'd walked into submission.
Her own thoughts wound a maze
around her head and 
coerced her into her own prison.

She dangled the key in front of her mind's eye.
A pendulum of freedom 
monotonously swinging back and forth 
like the rhythmic tic of a metronome. 

Thump, thump
thump, thump.

Loneliness
flutters sporadically;
feathers upon her soul.