Who Cares

who cares



As often as I reach The stretching fades
As much as I see Only what I can.
It disappears,
I open my inner eye
To see the bellowing of light
As loud my sound, no one hears
It just echoes.

Looking up at the crowd growing
Which one of you can see…
See, as far as me? From down here
As you drop your eyes to ascertain
I see you there, none of you see my pain
you move on to your gain.
Can you dance in my pit?, or sing,
So loud starved of sound
Barking out circled vibrations.



photograph by Matteo Paganelli


Image Curve’s Manifesto


Thomas DeAngelo

This is a writer of modern poetry and an inspiring writer. Residing in the lower Appalachian mountains of Pennsylvania where he enjoys reading, writing and is his spare time hiking. He has been writing since the 1980's with expectations of being published. The words that flow by ink are the defeats and enjoyments of the life lived in the years that accompanied the mind of a writer that measured his time recognizing the passions of surrounding people.

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