Written by Jacob Ibrag

Sometimes I walk to the corner of a room and

pretend  to be part of it. I imagine the room infested

with people. These people all talking loudly about

nothing in particular. Talking away while the walls listen

and observe. I am this wall. I am their shelter. These

people all talking away while I hold this roof. This roof

weighing a ton. I am the wall holding this roof. This roof is

currently having an affair with gravity. I am this wall

that feels the weight. These people depositing their ears

into the void. Just listen to me bending. Listen to these

walls slowly closing in. This roof weighing a ton. I am

this wall. You are all in my head. Sometimes I walk to

the corner and pretend. Sometimes doesn’t exist.

 I am this wall. Listen to me, whispering.

Photographer Unknown


14 comments on “Whispering

  1. That is a haunting work that deserves pondering. Thanks for sharing!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I too “pretend” inanimate objects have a voice. I think it’s because if I don’t have music on while working my mind fills the void by creating its own excitement.

    It certainly makes for interesting poetry. Love it ☺

    Liked by 4 people

  3. thefeatheredsleep

    Everything you write resonates and remains

    Liked by 3 people

  4. timelesswheel

    Beautiful poem 🙂 Art.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. The wall between “you” and your “self”

    Liked by 2 people

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