Unrest

I hear it all
smashing and clamoring
striking a tin can on the bars
ringing down the long hallways
and empty corridors of my complacent mind
trapped in a cell of norms
with sharp picket fences and temporary faces
the kind that smile and fade away
the kind that turn and talk
with stubbly beards and worn hands
backs of fingers and sandpaper scrapes
the incessant sounds will not be ignored
tap, tap tapping on my sub conscience
all the distractions of the traffic passing by
guttural motors and swooshing tires
or the tick tick ticking of the radiator
loud reminders of place and time
I bury my feet in wool socks and good intentions
beneath blankets high with downy love
but it will not silence it
it will not even mute the sound
a caged bird chirp chirp chirping
soft billowy feathers and high pitched moans
who am I to keep it all inside
who am I to let it all go