They won’t go away… they stray
The drusen scatter at will
Almost sperm shaped always going up
Leaving a tail in their wake
The madness doesn’t end when I close my eyes
Some days they’re awash in the picture… hiding
Other days it is all I can see
Then it’s drusen to dust and back again
Then in the background.. white noise
Always there, very loud or just a whisper
Tinnitus sometimes sings me a song in the background
Or the voices come and go through the noise
They’re all on the fringe taunting me trying to put the sounds together
Like the noise an old tape makes at the end of a song
Their voices are their just beyond my comprehension
The songs I can put a beat to but sound is just the orchestra tuning
Now let me go…
Some days, tapping my feet and humming along I’m just content
Trapped inside but safe…
Watching the blue sky and enjoying the music video
© 2012 Michael Yost 2/18
Michael's Lair 
That tape sound…superbly worked in…
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Thanks Jack.
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I had to look up drusen. Then I really got the meaning of the poem better. So nicely done. I hope it’s not autobriographic. If so, my heart is with you.
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It’s meant to be a poem where I’m laughing at old age. It’s something we’re all going to have to face someday. Just trying to get the right “tude” about it. So we should smile now…
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oh yes things that we all have to face, someday or the other … very well written.
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Thanks Baishali.
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Oh Michael! How vivid you made the scene and sensations. This is quite the telling!
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I appreciate all you your support Kim; thanks.
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we all have something trapped inside us…nice.
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Now it’s just a matter of pushing it out of our consciousness with more important things.
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