I tried to write something <br />that was almost worth reading <br />but this pen feels numb in my hands <br />and I stayed up all night <br />just to see if I could <br />I went out through my window <br />and onto the streets <br />to see them lifeless for once <br />it was everything that I expected <br />which was not anything at all <br />but I laughed all the same <br />just to ruin the silence <br />with a voice that almost echoed <br />but the wind swept it away <br />before it was brought back to me <br />as a voice I once knew <br />a phantom under the cold morning air <br />that would be drowning in the pale moon <br />if the street lamps were not so bright <br />a perfect ending to a poem <br />almost worth writing<br /><br />Wes Thompson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ten-cigarettes/
