A difference

We’re looking for
those people to prevail
who wont leave things like bruises,
cause when things spin,
they then start to fall
and will always be what loses.

I hear secrets in whispers
when there’s too many there
and that feeling begins to hover.
It’s a feeling that screams
where only dogs can hear
as our eyes are already covered.

These are constant moments
that will never end
once the start has then been crossed.
Those subtle times
we don’t see coming,
left outside to the frost.

It’s like we haven’t what we need,
or the tools to make things work.
We’re still missing those things
that have come to pass
and at night have begun to lurk.

These walls,
they muffle screams and guilt
until nothing can be heard.
They look so strong
beneath all their features,
but are all just that absurd.

I can see people walking
until they stop for something
and sometime leave a mark,
on things like walls
where the simple bricks
are all better off in the dark.

This is a constant world
where all we have
is by our own volition.
Our solutions and provisions
are all in a race
to outlast our opinions.

And when we bless our friends
they give us knowledge
through their own points of view,
things like those
we’ve yet to learn
and the things we’ve yet to do.

Experiences that force a change
into the lives
of those who live,
cause the last thing left
in everyone’s pockets
are the gifts they’ve yet to give.

So we loosen our grips
on what we’ve saved for last
and increase our tired wrinkles,
like some older note
that’s been squeezed too tight
and left faded, torn and crinkled.

It’s life that’s leading
through our hopeless days
and endless repetitions.
The jobs we work
and the skills we seek
and our endless obligations.

I just float to an end
where the floors stay still
and we all show favoritism.
It’s habit forming
where I cant stop smoking
and lean towards nihilism.

I keep wanting to swear
with specific words
that will make them feel confined,
cause all I’ve done
through all these days
was simply do my time.
I’m now split
into so many thoughts
where it’s the words that are courageous.
Those things we know
that need to be said,
but out-loud just seem outrageous.


About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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