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Gedicht: Our Symphony

As I sit and start to wonder
Where the silent moments went,
Omitted, stolen—as if plundered—
Leaving ignorance of what they meant.

Distracting all our thoughts and feelings,
Flooding minds with endless noise.
drawn into the devil’s dealings,
Ignoring inner, gentler voice.

Our thoughts now scream in wild unrest,
No rhythm, shape, or symphony.
The music buried in our chest,
Now fades into obscurity.

To shape our musings into tune,
Is therapy in form and hue.
And when our symphony finds bloom,
It redefines our point of view.

Over het gedicht:

Why, in this time, always negating our feelings, thoughts and inner self?