Numb emotion

That feeling when you pay the lifeblood of 
their own mistakes fields of love. 
The feeling of how it feels to be a pile of splinters, 
pot defective. 

All these gestures, modest, and stubborn. 
Arising from them are
 only rhymes dowry, haggard. 
Lawn have already fallen, 
autumn leaves dowry. 
My soul just hovering rhymes, chords stubborn. 
Numb emotional, within the poet, 
of the time, not just a stale story. 
The news, headlines, they are the victims of war. 
To adapt to the environment never, 
I guess I do not. 
I am the writer behind the 
words in the world running away.