Speak

July 7, 2009
By caylajoan GOLD, Clark, New Jersey
caylajoan GOLD, Clark, New Jersey
16 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
Writers become writers because they are
comfortable alone. Out of that silence emerges
a kind of music that doesn’t need screaming fans


I watch her.
No voice to speak,
no feet that can walk,
I stand feeling helpless,
Wanting to speak for her.

I wanted to ask why you were staring rather then looking at your own reflection.

What you see,
a little girl,
shaped differently unusual.
To me,
a girl who has gone through more then you ever will
but she still manages to smile
while you can't even grin.

In her eyes,
everyday is the happiest,
while yours is open to tears.
She hums to silence
while you can't even find a tune.
Her family loves her.
Yours never calls.

Yet you still manage to judge,
having no right to stare at anyone
but yourself.

And I stand here
helplessly watching,
wishing i had spoken up.

The author's comments:
this poem is about my handicap sister.

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