The Silences

It’s the silences that get to me
The empty spaces in between
The otherwise continuous stream
Of noisy, gung-ho positivity
And unveiled anger, bordering on
The vitriolic

Its the silences that show
The hollow truth behind what we know
To be no more than a protective facade
In this dialectic war, any words
Will serve as ammunition

But then we falter, attempted misdirection,
Distraction, ultimately unsatisfying descents
Into whatabouttery lead only to a realisation
That the barrel is empty, the battle is lost…

…At least, this time, as we emerge
Once again forthrightly on the front foot
Confident of a position that can once again
Ignore, avoid the distraction of either facts
Or purpose.

November 1, 2019

Jon Collins

Jon Collins

Word weaver, tale teller, singer of songs, baker and candlestick maker. Pattern whisperer. Distiller of clarity from complexity. Professional focus on software delivery, with all that enables it.
Cotswolds, UK