Poem #33: The Senses
#33 of Poetry
A poem about how the five senses (and speech) are things that are important in life, but not as important as the "sixth sense"; emotion.
The Senses
I feel so blind I can't see what to expect Nothing to nourish my sight If seeing is believing, Where to see the beliefs?
I feel so silent No sound is present The words have vacated No understanding Is left.
I feel so deaf The sound pressing in The blackness suffocates Absence so prevelant Where does it come from?
I feel so plugged The flowers are dull The stench rots my core My nose a sore Burning my face.
I feel so tasteless Ash filling my mouth I look down I see charcoal Glowing with fiery malice.
I feel so hollow No ground beneath my feet The walls have gone No finger, but glass Brittle as air.
I feel so wonderful Sorrow fills my heart Anger seethes my core Joy from tip to tip Confusion a comfort.
Depression, sadness, grief Are my eyes; Irritation, annoyance, fury Are my voice; Happiness, jubilance, giddiness Are my ears; Loneliness, inspiration, understanding Are my nose; Pity, sympathy, passion Are my tongue; Love, courage, shame Are my hands. These emotions, these senses, these feelings, Are my Life.
~bhscorch
"The Senses" by bhscorch is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License