Dome of Glass
How can you stand and watch.
My tears fall on the floor only to be forgotten.
My cries fall on deaf ears and in the end I'm left there sitting in the darkest corner trying to hold onto the very air.
They stand and watch a child of a young age cry herself to sleep.
Not a hand reached out.
No warm voices or eyes.
Just eyes of cold.
Every last one of them turned away.
Blocking out the screams behind the glass.
They saw me and I know they did.
But they were gone just as quick as they had come.
I sit in my dome of glass and always hear the whispers of evil buzz in my ear.
I try to swat them away but they come back.
The screams of others pain helps me none.
And yet despite my own pain.
I try to help them.
But in my glass dome all I can do is sit and watch the world pass by.
Again they just sit and watch me.
I've had enough.
All the screams, the cries, the tears, the pain.
Somewhere I believe there is a God.
But even in dark corner of my glass dome its hard to find the pure things that help me stay alive.
In my dome I stand and take my fist to the glass.
At first its just a soft knock.
But then I get a feeling of anger and pound harder and harder.
Both of my fist pound on the glass and I give out my last cry when the glass begins to crack.
I realize now what I've wanted.
My fist pound continuously not even flinching.
Finally I let out my loudest scream that is filled with all the pain, anger, sorrow, and despair.
With the last pound of my fist the dome is shattered.
When I look up at the people that have stood and watched my suffering they stare back with new faces.
Faces of shock, surprise, and warmth.
I scowl at them and spit at their feet.
Who are they to look at me with the warmth I have desired my whole life when all they've looked at me with is cold blank stares.
I walk away from them all.
My stomach and heart cannot stand the very thought of even breathing the same air as people like them.
So I live from now until the day I have to draw my final breath by the understanding of what it was like in my dome of glass.
My tears fall on the floor only to be forgotten.
My cries fall on deaf ears and in the end I'm left there sitting in the darkest corner trying to hold onto the very air.
They stand and watch a child of a young age cry herself to sleep.
Not a hand reached out.
No warm voices or eyes.
Just eyes of cold.
Every last one of them turned away.
Blocking out the screams behind the glass.
They saw me and I know they did.
But they were gone just as quick as they had come.
I sit in my dome of glass and always hear the whispers of evil buzz in my ear.
I try to swat them away but they come back.
The screams of others pain helps me none.
And yet despite my own pain.
I try to help them.
But in my glass dome all I can do is sit and watch the world pass by.
Again they just sit and watch me.
I've had enough.
All the screams, the cries, the tears, the pain.
Somewhere I believe there is a God.
But even in dark corner of my glass dome its hard to find the pure things that help me stay alive.
In my dome I stand and take my fist to the glass.
At first its just a soft knock.
But then I get a feeling of anger and pound harder and harder.
Both of my fist pound on the glass and I give out my last cry when the glass begins to crack.
I realize now what I've wanted.
My fist pound continuously not even flinching.
Finally I let out my loudest scream that is filled with all the pain, anger, sorrow, and despair.
With the last pound of my fist the dome is shattered.
When I look up at the people that have stood and watched my suffering they stare back with new faces.
Faces of shock, surprise, and warmth.
I scowl at them and spit at their feet.
Who are they to look at me with the warmth I have desired my whole life when all they've looked at me with is cold blank stares.
I walk away from them all.
My stomach and heart cannot stand the very thought of even breathing the same air as people like them.
So I live from now until the day I have to draw my final breath by the understanding of what it was like in my dome of glass.