Tick-tick-tock

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If I could be heard, 
I would say listen. 
 
Listen to the lost voices 
And to those who cannot catch their breath,
The ones too terrified to scream,
Too petrified to breathe. 
 
Listen to the voices of the past
The ones who said "it won't last"
And the ones who see how times pass
And how ages change yet stay the same. 
 
Listen to the voices of the few
Though whispers heard, 
Yet action overdue. 
The ones who do, not speak, 
The few who lose yet get back up and try again anew. 
 
Listen to the able, the faithful,
The generations-old times and fables
That bring us to where we stand today. 
 
If I could be heard, 
I would say listen.
Don't speak.
And open your eyes
To the dry, nitty-gritty world around you. 
I speak on behalf of the real world. 
I speak on behalf of the thirsty, the hungry, the helpless, the cowardly,
The age-old victim lists of down-pounding rain that eats tongues and lips just to see your pain
In hopelessness. 
 
I speak to those who live,
On behalf on those who live. 
Voices are echoes, 
But together are clocks. 
 
If I could be heard,
I would say listen. 
Don't speak. 
Open your eyes. 
Make a difference. 
Cogs and gears only work when they mesh,
And believe me fearlessly;
There's a lot of work left. 
 
If I could be heard,
I would say listen to the tick-tick-tock
Of your breaths and your heart. 
Working apart doesn't rock worlds,
But working together brings fresh starts.
With a simple tick-tick-tock,
They can be rebuilt. 
Because broken clocks are useless,
As time ticks on. 
 
If I could be heard,
I wouldn't need another word. 
 

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