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Silent Is Violent
March 1, 2016
My lungs will fill
And then deflate
I can not help
But to hate
I had a chance
It was a clean slate
Ninety nine percent chance
I'd live ever after happily
But..
I was that one percent
I was many things
I was alone
I was the “John Doe”
I was anything but human
I layed there in silence
The quiet was so violent.
© Sherell B., Philadelphia, PA
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When writing this poem I was writing in the perspective of someone who lacked self confident and felt alone. I wanted to make the reader aware of the lonelyness and disrespect this patient had.