Hollow Whistle

This language

Seems too revolting

These words

Roll out to bite

These letters

Feel good inside

But rot on the outside



I am scaffolding

This mediocrity

With a background score

Of frequent failures

And losses in ambition


This music

Seems too familiar

These sounds

Dance out too right

These shadows

Are crippling despite

Walking on them is a respite



I am leaving

This lethargy


On a cushioned bed

And poetry that is mine