Somewhere the cable has been cut

And my words bleed out onto the floor

Suffered to live without any light

They become dry ink, but little more

The amplitude I once enjoyed

Has closed like a jail cell door

And now I wonder if what I write

Will find a way to endure

Why has this fate befallen me

Is it something that I said

How can all the steps along my path

Be here that my journey has led

Words still weave their wonders

But the pen is stricken dead

One bit out of place in the code

Is where my silence was bred

And now the dark, just a deeper shade

Feeling cut-off from caring friends

Like some scripted Greek tragedy

This cannot be how my story ends

Oh, grantor of an audience

Bless me but with one more day

Just one more post, a final bow

A chance to give my words away


9 Responses to “Unplugged”
  1. beth says:

    I can’t imagine anything stopping your flow of words – pen is mightier….

  2. The winds may stop, the ice may melt, the trees may fall, our time’s all spent, but man, our words will never cease, they will endure, they will increase, so doubt it all, but this believe!

  3. jonicaggiano says:

    You know I am willing my work to my daughter. Even if no one ever sees it she will have it. I can’t imagine you ever stopping writing Brad. This was a gorgeous piece of poetry. Sending my love. ❤️🤗Jonikins

    • Brad Osborne says:

      Thanks, Jonikins! This was written when I had lost my internet connection. I felt unplugged from the world for a moment.

      • jonicaggiano says:

        We should all learn to let go of our phones for a while. There should be no phone zones in one’s house as well. You can probably guess where those are. Big squeeze Brad. Love ❤️ Jonikins

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