How can you feel with your lips sewn shut?
When you lose everything you still have your voice,
Beckoning to you all that monetary interests could not.
Who can live up to the wonders of life
when sand is cascading through your throat?
What has such arrogance to tell his brother he can not feel,
That he can not speak what is deep in his soul?
When you live with a hollow mind and an empty soul
You carry a forsaken voice that begs in silence to be free.
When your heart screams to escape and you sit in a silent explosion of nothing,
Little can be heard and a void is created in your last breath of life.
Who could tell you that something can not be said without consequences?
One who fears his own voice will be overshadowed and cannot understand change,
or is at a point of ignorance that they can not return.
The truth, so blatantly before us, is that all things must be
Said,
Heard,
Experienced,
and understood until the world can breathe the essence of all ideals and each tacit of life.
We must feel as our neighbor felt.
We breathe the same air and have the same needs to sustain a life of pain and neglect.
When will someone step up and scream out that a change is ahead?
Until then those who have had their souls extinguished and voices subdued,
Will sit in eternal agony until one can tell them,
Speak.