Benjamin West

Pictures leave little to the imagination, whereas words may never truly be fully understood. Such is the beauty of poetry. Each line, each minute detail may paint a totally different picture for the reader. The poems within are meant to awaken your mind and force you to see things you may not realize are staring you in the face at this very moment. There is a little bit of darkness within even the brightest of lights... Chirping Alone The music that paints your name upon the night cradles me gently into this slumber. The waves from the sea have carried these thoughts far into the darkness. There's no visible life in and around me. There's nothing other than the sky's reluctant finale. We all crawl back into the safety of time's gentle facade and we nourish ourselves back to health for the chance to diminish our mortality even more. The crickets are chirping louder like a symphony of souls. Each one crying for the chance to be heard, by someone, anyone. We are all just crickets chirping in the night, hoping that someone notices or cares. But there isn't a soul alive that cares enough to respond to the chirping of these crickets. Because, we are all too busy chirping away, ourselves, to bother.

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