There’s just nothing new
On the phone
As days feel long
Spent ignoring
Our imminent threat
Come of laziness
Spawned from life
Seeming stale

And trying to force
What we must
Knowing fortune fails
Every labor
Like major attempts
At real progress
Stalled by fear
Hitting back

With open-hand slaps
Making marks
Across these mouths
Growing silent
Learning words will work
Still against us
Since speaking implies
Being judged

For another belief
Gone unheard
Or poem so true
It is dangerous
When idleness builds
Mounting pressures
Only honesty seeks
Through such voice

If sitting around
Needing hope
Beyond this feed
Lacking meaning
But left on read
Writing phrases
Soon igniting truths
Turning bright

At tomorrow’s risk
Drawing near
Watching worlds explode
While forgetting
Though sitting down now
Always tired
Wishing somehow
Change could exist.

• J. Pigno