I wrote this blackout poem during our inaugural Tavernacle Poetry which takes place the Fourth Friday of every month. A great thanks to organizers, Jen Sparling and Skylar Andrews.
Thought makes the whole therefore, think well.
No one has any idea I speak the truth,
and they never believe me.
All is War by other means.
Does the cessation of notes stop?
Is war another kind of language for their thoughts?
Words must have no relation to action.
Good words are a mask,
Whoever thinks considers it in its remotest,
It is a question which cannot be solved.
What makes the situation so difficult:
Those who believe may affect us.