Mr. Void

By Cliff Lake

 

Mr. Void

 

Looking out the window,

Watching the children laugh,

But not hearing,

Separated and excluded,

Through studious disaffection,

The color drains,

And leaves an empty.

Click on the TV,

To dispel the nothing,

With noise,

And forced hues,

Vapid humor,

Retold drama,

And motion and,

The ads come on,

To sell you something empty.

Something to fill a corner,

But inanimate,

Cold,

Soulless and dead,

Empty.

Turn to the device,

Full of words,

And easy pictures,

Loud and loud,

And loudly proclaimed,

Promising everything,

Producing nothing,

Coming up empty.

Now you join the frantic chorus,

Repeat the phrases,

March the marches,

Wave the signs,

Affect nothing,

No need for thought,

Being empty.

Someone logics you,

They make their point,

They have their thoughts,

They have the facts,

And point to proof,

And you screech and moan,

To try to make them appear empty.

But they have thoughts,

That are their own,

While you find yourself,

Repeating what you have already said,

Cannot get out of your own head,

Realizing,

That you are the empty,

And you have nowhere to go,

And no one to be,

And your life is empty…

You are empty.

 

Cliff Lake 4/21/2024

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

Location: Market Square, 1355 Market St, San Francisco, CA 94103, USA

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