Here, I do not need to coax the sound— No more tremulous plucks, bated breath, Muting my voice as it slips from my throat Here, It falls as a gift, freely given Resonant as thunder in the mountains Bold and beautiful. How brightly I burn When I do not have to ask To be heard.
If, today, someone walked up to you on the street and asked "would you rather be seen or heard?", what would you say? Would you humor them and stay? Would you simply walk away? Growing up, I always heard kids say "I wish I was invisible." Maybe it was because they were shy. Maybe bullies made them cry. Maybe they were embarrassed about how they look. Maybe they just wanted a safe place to read a book. Whatever the reason, I can't help but wonder...if, today, someone walked up to you on the street and asked "would you rather be seen or heard?", what would you say? Would your answer be different than what it would have been as a kid? Or would it be the same?
Funny, a simple change, well, it changes so much. I feel confident by just a simple touch. It doesn't seem like much to others, But to me I feel brand new with these two colors. It doesn't shine nor shimmer, In fact it's a hell of a lot dimmer. It doesn't stop me from feeling on top of the world, And with this change I demand to be heard. I won't stop, I'll keep it going, I can't shine but I'll keep on glowing. The world is still dark and dreary, Thinking of the past still makes me teary. But I feel a bit brighter, I feel like I'm a fighter. Thank you change for helping me out, I'm no longer afraid to raise my voice and shout.
Different; You heard me, that's what i'll always be. Maybe not to my eyes, but to yours they will see. Different is the word to describe the abnormalities in ones self of individuality. I' am different because your music taste is awful, but who am I to judge ones flavor in artistry. You **** me in and ******* out like a dragons fire. I' am the girl who you never thought you'd heard. Different is what they call me, and in some other terms just a freak in disguise.
Where the heart is; sometimes a familiar place Most of the time has heartbeat and a pair of eyes A room filled with ray of hope; your favorite space Arms that wrap your flaws while you cry
Hands that touches your soul and make you whole Walls that protect you and make you feel safe A fire lit that keeps you warm when you lose control Thine soul who embrace and accept your imperfect shape
Solid foundation that carry your weight of regrets and mistakes An open door where you find the sense of belonging Dim light that brings comfort and stop your aches A warm breathe you will always look forward in the morning
Wherever that person go; it felt like coming home to a being Home isn't a place; it's a feeling
Be nice Live politely Be small. Be small. Be small.
Be sweet Live righteously Be small. Be small. Be small.
I'm here but am I? I love all the street cats. I'm here but you won't see All the ancient souls in me. I'm here but am I? Instead I listened quietly. I'm here but oft forgot, Drain my empathy. I am right here, I am. With borrowed sorrow, I am here, right here, Listening. Listening. Listening.
I'm not good with hello's or goodbyes because when you are someone as invisible as a whisper on the wind as the atoms in our skin or a melody trapped within there's no one waiting to greet you and no one there to leave you
I'm just a cellophane wrapped scream waiting to be heard, waiting to be seen