I learned young

how to shove my private thoughts down,

to put them on display for no false listeners;

those who would blindly pin judgement to me.

I sang a song of silence.

Secondhand grief eats at my heart. 

Watching people suffer, 

no words of mine able to console.

Imploring God to help me take their pain away,

I fail to bear the burden.

I sang a song of silence.

Pushed and pulled by greedy hands in different directions,

my happiness determined by everyone but myself.

I stomped and resisted and cried tears of blue

looking around desperately for anyone 

that coiuld look in my eyes and understand the hurt.

I opened my mouth to scream, plead, even whisper,

but it had been too long.

My lips knew no sound.

I sang a song of silence.