The voices of the silent

remain unheard.

They see and they feel,

but don’t say a word.

They strangle their minds

with challenging screams.

But have lips sewn shut

by tightly knit seams.

They know what it is like

to walk in another’s shoes.

But to let another walk in theirs

they solemnly refuse.

They watch the world crumble

and slowly fall apart.

But they, too, crumble,

for omission has no heart.

The voices of the silent,

the meak and the dear,

are the voices of truth

that we all need to hear.