A Singular Voice

Crying out

for one of life's

many inconsistent qualms

which arise without fail.

Screaming

pleading for 

justice, joy,

a sense of reason.

Little whispers

silenced pleas

quieted to 'preserve the peace'

but there's never peace for them.

A singular voice

piercing the air

however brief

slowly silenced,

placed with the other.

How does one live

without a voice?

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741