Unconnected Thought

Words wrapped around,
There is no meaning.
Voices lost to the ether,
The electric hum on the net.
No one sees or hears.
Voices drown in the clamour
Of the me firsts, the I's, the me's.
In this democracy of self
No one listens, takes time.
Words need welding,
To be fashioned honed
So that their meaning shines.
Not the endless repetitious babble
Of the unconnected thought.

poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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