a poem by Larry Belt, USA - poetry writer, author, poet

The distant sounds of silent screams
Echo through my soul
A nightmare filled with broken dreams
That time cannot console

My helpless mind will not yield
To these voices that I hear
My captive thoughts have not revealed
The purpose of my fear

Loneliness mocks my very being
As time comes screeching to a halt
Blame still hides my eyes from seeing
Insisting it's not my fault

They say I'm mad, mad indeed
They know nothing of my pain
There's no one here to intercede
So this madness must remain

My soul cries out in sad remorse
But I fear it's already too late
I cannot alter this dreadful course
That somehow holds my fate

They call me a poet, poet indeed
How is it they do not know?
Can't they see the words I bleed?
I'm Edgar Allan Poe

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