Broken Vision

At this moment my head is flooded

With every word I’ve ever wanted,

But I’m caught in a fog—inhibition at its best—

Which always seems to hold me back.

I look at you and hope for anything but silence,

Your eyes dodge mine—I’m staring at the ground,

Cursing myself for being born without a voice.

You have so many reasons to smile,

And I want to be one but I can’t—I can’t—

I freeze up and end up counting stars—waiting.

And for some uncertain contingency  

I have been given so many chances

Which have come and passed me by.

I worry that under some dire circumstance

Today will the last time I hear your voice—

Today will be that last time I see your face—

Today may be where our paths divide.

      DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com