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not_thepoet_hewantstobePoems
My voice cries out from forced silence, Thunderous volume in my ears, Words preparing to do violence Against my fear to face my fears. The times I spoke I have been heard, But poetry’s not for today. The world needs action, not a word, Though I’d prefer to run away. I wish my writing would suffice So that I never have to be. But still, I make this sacrifice Real life needs the real me. O silent voice, speak through my pen! A spirit to articulate! You will be heard, not if but when! O voice, it’s you I cultivate!
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 5:03 PM UTC
Silent Voice
My voice cries out from forced silence, Thunderous volume in my ears, Words preparing to do violence Against my fear to face my fears. The times I spoke I have been heard, But poetry’s not for today. The world needs action, not a word, Though I’d prefer to run away. I wish my writing would suffice So that I never have to be. But still, I make this sacrifice Real life needs the real me. O silent voice, speak through my pen! A spirit to articulate! You will be heard, not if but when! O voice, it’s you I cultivate!
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Written by
not_thepoet_hewantstobe
M/USA
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 5:03 PM UTC
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