I am shaking. <br />I am searching. <br />I am searching inside me. <br />I am searching for that scream, the scream that wants out. <br />I am looking, I can feel it, yet it's not coming. <br />Perhaps its the fact that i am crowded. <br />I am swimming in a sea of people, more like drowning. <br />Is that why they are turning down my scream? <br />My frustration is growing heavy. <br />Its reaching my mouth, it's claw-like fingers are climbing up my throat. <br />Then there it is. <br />Heads are turned, the sea has now become a pond. <br />There is no life, only stationary objects, standing, staring, judging. <br />I take a breath. Is it coming again? <br />No. My frustration has leaked out, it's gone, there is no more stress, no more clumps of hair sticking to my fingers. <br />Then suddenly, the pond becomes a sea of life and pain once more, and I feel it again.<br /><br />Desiree Whitamore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-scream-6/
