This poem is about the freedom of expression and fear of offense. The character depicted in this poem is shy, soft-spoken, and unable to express herself vocally.
I tend to keep my true feelings all bottled up,
I feel as though I have no voice when it’s time to speak,
I then get choked up,
Am I a person that has no point of view,
in a world where we have one thought or frame of mind that’s
never been renewed.
Have we gotten to the point where we can’t have a difference in
discussion?
Can two people have a difference of opinion without a concussion.
I oftentimes avoid conflict when I could help it,
being afraid that the disagreement would escalate,
my life is too precious to waste time with an irritable debate.
This yelling and screaming will give you a migraine,
I wanted to open my mouth to speak my mind but this constant
bickering brings me nothing but pain.
I envy people who have the heart to speak their mind,
such as the people from past times who have dealt with serious
hate crimes.
When I can’t speak my mind, my larynx feels stifled;
so I prefer writing it down so my thoughts do not become idle.
As I’m writing how I really feel, tears stream down my face,
God feels my pain and I can feel his embrace.
I hate not being vocally dominant, I have a voice, if you won’t
listen to me then why should I talk, so I shy away from people
and write down all my thoughts.
I have more comfort in a room by myself with a little black box,
when I open it up, it becomes my laptop.
Every hurt, every disappointment is being jotted down by
choice;
even though no one is listening, I have a voice.
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