Some silences are meant to be awkward
When I think of it, it makes me wonder.
The latent fear, the quiet rage,
From questions unanswered to actions unchanged.
We've made our beds, in them we sleep
Await the day, for a message to preach.
A message that will make the pain go away
The pain that is borne night and day.
The day arrives, the message revealed,
A shadow of bitter disallows the appeal.
Rays and shadows all disappear,
Leaving just an awkward silence to linger.
