The Moth
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loser_ocean
loser_oceanCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  6 months ago
My first poem I’ve ever written. I don’t know how it stands quality-wise so I would love feedback if you’re willing to provide it.
By loser_ocean

The Moth

by Lucien Dallabetta

It's an odd process.

It's an odd process. First, it's ringing.

It's an odd process. First, it's ringing. That buzz in your ear,

It's an odd process. First, it's ringing. That buzz in your ear, It won't go away,

It's an odd process. First, it's ringing. That buzz in your ear, It won't go away, Until you concede.

So what's the harm.

So what's the harm. You concede.

When you concede, You feel ignorance.

When you concede,

When you concede, You feel ignorance. Annoyance.

When you concede, You feel ignorance. Annoyance. But you concede,

When you concede, You feel ignorance. Annoyance. But you concede, Again.

Once more, you say,

Once more, you say, What's the harm?

You concede day after day,

You concede day after day, Because surprisingly,

You concede day after day, Because surprisingly, You like it.

You concede day after day, Because surprisingly, You like it. The Moth climbs the ranks,

You concede day after day, Because surprisingly, You like it. The Moth climbs the ranks, In your mind.

You're oblivious,

You're oblivious, But there is no harm.

The ringing is good,

The ringing is good, You see that now.

The ringing is good, You see that now. The ringing is yours.

The ringing is good, You see that now. The ringing is yours. When they concede,

The ringing is good, You see that now. The ringing is yours. When they concede, You spread The Moth.

The Moth does not belong to you.

The Moth does not belong to you. The Moth belongs to everybody who hears it.

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