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Noise Pollution

I've sequestered myself to cave without a drop of light.
The only sounds are intermittent noises echoing
Through the darkness, like moans and screeches of plight,
And a deep grinding of rock like a mill's deep abrasing
And the slow drips of water from stalactites as certain
As a clock. The echoes seem to come from everywhere,
And I cannot not determine the source, as if the cavern
I am in is a cold, dark womb and of all else, I am unaware.
I found my cellphone in my pocket which I scanned through,
The images and words so foreign to me, with an urgency
Impossible to avail. No longer below the sky with a clear view
Of those underneath, even my reflection in water I could not see.
I see people lining up pleading their cases of innocence,
And everyone trying to nail down exactly who is to blame,
Though haven't we all been imprisoned by circumstance,
Unable to exhume all of what we have to say?
As if with a microscope, I examined my behavior:
Have we all been judged? Where is the savior?

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Timothy Norton has always been a creative person, and his creative writing was encouraged by teachers as he went through elementary and secondary school. In college he found the poetic form to be a natural way to express himself and the perceptions he felt he needed to say. He graduated with a BA in Liberal Arts with a minor in creative writing from the George Washington University and has been involved in several workshops and poetry conferences after graduating. Currently, he works as a data analyst, which allows him to subsidize his writing. He has about a dozen poems published in places like California Quarterly, Poetry Quarterly, Eckleburg Poetry Review, Wayfarer, Agave Magazine, Westward Quarterly, Potpourri, Ink In Thirds, and other venues.