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Wolf's Poetry


Airplanes, clocks, televisions, voices
Cars, telephones, slamming doors
Pressing, crushing my brain
All I want is silence.

Freedom from the oppression
The subtle roar
Of civilization
Becomes screaming.

To run fast, far away
From this house
This town
This insane racket.

To find the place
Where sound isn't noise
But soul-stirring music
And peaceful harmony.

A forest of life
Where the wind through the trees
Speaks wisdom
And whispers secrets.

A child stream
That reminds us to find
Our lost youth
And faded passions.

A laughing waterfall
That soaks up our sorrows
Drinks our worries
Leaving us with only


~~Erin Metcalf~~
© 1993
About This Poem

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