The Teak Forest

[chipped2003]

Distant Sounds


I speak,
As I always have,
My words wander
Into the dark,
So lost,
They dissipate in air,
Each vain attempt,
A deaf remark.
What purpose
Does this voice serve,
Too many times
Did I embark,
Growing tired,
I close my lips,
My tree,
Now covered in its bark.
It grows,
A little tougher now,
My words
Push us apart,
The end
Of the beginning,
That was not allowed to start.