lost and forgotten juveniles poems: Babels in my head.

 Ringing, ringing—
Babels in my head.
Some have one, some had ten,
But I feel I have hundreds—
All ringing, ringing,
Making babels in my head.

Like cluttering pebbles,
Like scrabbling Scrabble,
With rumbling parables,
Scything scythes
In haunted nights—
Losing pride.

Where shall I abide,
With ringing, ringing—
Babels in my head?