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Collection

Beneath or above your liver
A thousand brown butterflies wither.
Your anger is released from its prison
And your fake smile sues you for treason.
They utter your name and call you for dinner;
As a family nuisance you are pronounced winner.
Although their eyes may not pierce your internal glimmer,
The butterflies call you for dinner.

Whatever broad problems the world now faces,
He threads all others' lips and interlaces
These into daily conversation and small talk
And with heavy steps goes out for an evening's lone walk.
The rest as magnets are drawn in educated
For you to face silence as by all debated
Upon, as by all means by him you're probated;
To his heavy steps you are fated.

Not love, not justice, not a controversial matter
Can be embraced in innocent chatter.
As single figures you all are in solitude
As a consequence of order and his great magnitude.
Drooping eyes and mournful expectance
Mark the fatigue of constant social rejection.
In innocent chatter you outline perfection
And his silent figure collection.

This is the way he yells.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)
Review Request (Direction): 
How does this theme appeal to you?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

projection of this person, lets me think that this is about a young person who feels very alone. Not a part of the family, their opinions don't seem to matter. Maybe they are the youngest, or with no older siblings at all. I see the plastic figures shouting out the frustration and scenes of violence. But they don't seem to see, other than to say why? You have a good piece here.
Yes, the meter is a little ragged, but otherwise a good poem. ~ Geezer.
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