Silent Parade

This morning is too quiet
For all the things I’ve seen,
For all the dreams I’ve had
And what I could have been.
This morning is too quiet
While I sit here alone.
I’m overcome by silence
Of the life I could have loved.

This morning is too loud
And I’m stuck amidst the din.
Outside little chimes are
Tingling sonnets in the wind.
Mintkey’s running rampant
From the northernside to east
While I’m stalked by screaming voices
And some wrong unholy beast.

This morning is too loud
But the silence reigns supreme.
I’m wise to know tinnitus
Is exactly what it seems.