Sitting in a darkened room
his hair a silver mane
those constant hissing sounds
for days he watches on
to a TV tuned to "inbetween."
He'll tell you if you wait
to share or drink a few
how God is speaking from the screen
telling him he's right,
and how and what to do.
He'll smile and light one up
"This message is not for you."
Walk softly as you come and go
there are too many rooms like these
so many who crave to hear
from darkness you should not probe
how what they do is right,
although once they knew it wrong.

by N.J. Gardiner

Other poems of N.J. GARDINER (2)

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