Tolling Bells

I found an old design journal of mine and I reread it. This is the poem that came from it. 

Tolling Bells

Tension mounts slowly.

The disappointment in

Your eyes pierces

Me worse then

Any knife blade.

I know what

You want from

Me but I’m

Unable to deliver.

It’s draining me.

I can take

Anger, I can

Take yelling, but

It’s your silence

That cuts me

To the core.

Stoic and Sphinx-like

You stare at

Me, gaze unwavering.

Your mouth is

A hard line.

Gone is the

Warmth and laughs

You’ve shown me.

Instead, it is

Now cold indifference

That I face.

The bells that

Toll In Memoriam

Of our beloved

Department Chair have

Changed the very

Air between us.

Gone is the

Mutual joking, smiles

And general friendliness.

Instead, it’s replaced

By great tension.

Your beautiful choreography

Is marred by

My horrid sound.

Although I push

Myself, I know

You’ll never be

Satisfied with my

Work. Even still,

Because I look

Up to you,

I will continue

To work and

Try to match

Your vision perfectly.

It’s all that

I can do.