Lichen Poem: Screeching Silent Sound

It was an unbearable noise

Leaving the most proper person

Robbed of all their poise

It was a sound

Greater than the Howl

Of a Murderous hound

It echoes, and it Carries

As if it’s in a cave

But to each person it varies

To some–the damned lucky Pricks

It’s quiet, and quite low

No louder than breaking sticks

It’s a Sceetching Silent Sound

An Unforgettable Noise

Heard by all the criminally insane Girls & Boys