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