a poem I wrote

You laugh and silence our deep questions,
your grunts of apathy are foreign, they haunt me and displace me.
I'm left to wonder all alone why I'm here in the first place.
Is anything sacred to you? You sometimes take the breath from life.
You meet innocence with scornfullness, laughing in the face of the dreamer.
Does the silence ever beckon you to wonder?
I wish you could just sit here for a moment and wonder with me.
Do you ever listen to all the noise of humanity?
Can't you hear that beautiful, tragic buzz?
You act as if you've already lived to seventy and there's nothing left to know.
No point in asking anything or exploring any further.
I sit alone in a room where your breath penetrates the air, but the emptiness
echo's off the walls, reverberating into my heart all I've ever known of you.
My words are like soundwaves, existing, carrying a message, a meaning,
a rhythm. But you're like a radio that's been turned off, broken, collecting
dust in the corner. You can't pick me up can you?
I just said something, did you hear?
Hello? Hello?
I keep wondering and you sit there so oblivious.