The Voiceless


Denied personhood
We discount their voices
the voices that have not yet learned to rasp and scoff
yell and sneer
Have you seen their souls wither?
No living creature may be possessed
yet you try
Don’t you see? All that makes them beautiful
you murder by caging
So bereft in your own loss that you would seek to suck the life of another
but it will leave you emptier still.

None understand the child’s plight
or care to
too much at stake, too much power to lose
admit it, you enjoy your position
at least its comfortable blindness

Can you remember what it’s like?
To be utterly trapped
to watch your life as a spectator to your own agony
as every moment is controlled by another
and autonomy is given lip-service as best
second-class citizens
not even human
pawns to be played in their political games
to be pasted larger than life on billboards
airbrushed to perfection or destitution
To be called a blank slate
to be written upon
a piece of clay
to be molded

Silenced without a second thought, all the wisdom or love they could offer
deemed worthless
When you cannot speak your mind
forbidden to be
to be anything but a fabrication of their twisted ideals
When you are shipped around like a package
each rejection turning your heart colder
one degree at a time
as the only reality that exists for you
to the fact that you are worthless

Learned helplessness
hiding behind oversized hoodies and collapsed hearts
eyes cast down like a slave’s
For what do they know but enslavement to a machine
that uses them thoroughly dry
then discards them upon a landfill of hopes and dreams, of souls and bodies
where the humanity of both the oppressed and the oppressor rots

So when you verbally devour
rip to shreds
the terrified one
still a child herself
just as victim to the vagaries of fate
who cannot bear to bring another life into this hell
just remember what you are asking for
Do you so desire fresh blood to spill
more flesh to pound into the dirt?
So where one pair of haunted eyes cowered 253f6340c0d2146cd9cd341484ce029f
beneath your venomous judgements
now two shall feel the searing guilt
and know the utter isolation

How much more will it take?
Need it be your own child lying lifeless
their own hand forced by desperation
their silent screams ignored until
the knife, the cord, the pill
offered more comfort than your hand
the hand that, before all else
ought to protect and nurture the wild, wise fledgling
the little spark of universe flung into your life by fate
who could teach you so much
to laugh
to cry
to smell the flowers and feel the breeze in your hair
You cannot cage what you love
nor silence what is worthy
How much more whitewashed blood
how many more concealed tears
until the voices of the innocent are heard?

Once upon a time
each of us knew that we were enough
happy to be
delighted with each other and the world
But power is a monster
sparing none
All must learn its ruthless games
participate in the force that turns the world, as they say
though all at stake is a warped society
a disease upon the perfection of life

With arbitrary marks in the string of time
we degrade ourselves
believing that once we have passed the next test
measured up to their illusory standards
we may be free to participate in the experience of living and creating
Don’t you see?
You are whole
You are enough
Right now
Shine so brightly that none dare steal your light
You starchild, they possess not the power to dim you


For a great perspective that helped spark this post, this short video by Alan Watts is well worth your time:

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