The choice of no choices:
Surely I’ve said it here before,
Thinking that I’m thoughtless,
Faceless evermore;
That my voice becomes voiceless
The moment it is heard,
And everything I wish
Is best not pandered with a word;
And all my silly choices
Are no better than what’s gone before;
So what’s the point in raising voices?
It won’t help me be heard more.
online at: https://writerinretrospect.wordpress.com/
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out... View more posts
