No one hears my voice.

Yes. I know.
Their ears hear and their eyes watch.
But they can't dig deeper than that.

My voice is quiet, insignificant, petite,
but my voice is strong.
And it wants to be heard.

My words don't come out right when I say them.
People twist out meanings that were never there.
They hear with ears,
but they don't listen with hearts.

I write.

The meaning is clear to see,
To understand you must look.
But to those people that take time,
My voice is heard.

No matter if there is anyone there,
These words are loud and call for change.
My voice is heard.
But not to those fools
Who slit the tongue and
Devour every good meaning
Of the voice inside of me,
leaving it dead, empty, quiet, insignificant, puny.

My voice is dead
When it is unwritten.
Yet no one really wants to take the time;
Read and listen.

No one hears my voice.