Title: Innocence
by Maria from Durham | in writing, poetry
The chair is empty, vacant, dismissed
By a family who turn a blind eye.
The youngest sees that which they are blind to.
You are not here, you are there instead.
A quiet house, a crescendo of silence
A vacuum of emotion, empty yet full.
Forgetting is inevitably forgotten.
You are not here, you live in my head.
The whisper of a memory, echoes
Inside. No one to voice their remembrance.
Noise is the key to life, but you do not care.
You are not here, you are dead.
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