this poem is called numb and it's by jonathan greenal. the people stood quiet [speaker not understood], forging ideas, subjective. they needed worthless. they questioned the points, methods, mean and motive, the why's and wherefores. they deemed what seemed to be obvious, the elusive truth that had been there all along. [speaker not understood] no longer would they feel, numb. the most beautiful of words rolled off the tongue like rain off a roof, easily fed, easily felt, nothing at all, but numb. they moved once more, the cold night biting them. the wind bounced like weather off them. not once did it stir inside, not onces was the persian pierced by a smile nor a tear. they heard their hearts beat but did not feel the blood pump. they did not feel it push it to their organs or their brainses, instead it sat there and kept beat like a conductor without a seat. so easy, so easy not to cry nor moan, not to grieve or groan, not to smile or laugh. live life by halfs, half conscious. think did not see when it eroded their souls and brought to