To be heard,

to be lived-

a life full of luster.

Empty white canvas

bursts forth with a cluster

of words to be written,

Though I'm smitten

with thoughts

of lasting plots

etched into my page.

Legacy told for myself and no others.

'less my smile grow to rage

My child grow to age.

And those who I turned

from and burned

along the way,

they read and find

my life's rewind

in the Echoes of Silence

of ink left behind.