Rough and numb,
I can’t hear a thing you say.
Your words hit hard, and
Fall to the ground.
You pick them up,
And are on your way.
Taking a bit of me.
By now I’m so calloused,
I doubt any of it matters.
Calloused – April 19, 2019
Published
Rough and numb,
I can’t hear a thing you say.
Your words hit hard, and
Fall to the ground.
You pick them up,
And are on your way.
Taking a bit of me.
By now I’m so calloused,
I doubt any of it matters.
DoRee MelNic 
“You pick them up,
And are on your way.”
I love that. Reminds me of the stick and stones saying. But instead they just fall to the ground. Greta poem.
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Thank you. Loved reading your thoughts, great analogy!
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