Voice

They never gave you one.

Too deep to breath
The fathomless myriad of thoughts,
Expression
Your eyes tell a different story.
You lips, phrase odd words,
You, (points)
Help,
Need.
Greed?
Your hands,
With wild gesticulation,
Your clothes,
Your stooped presence,
Your scratched out drawings,
Your pet, your house, some children, yours?

Use it or lose it, they say.

But they forgot to dole out the sound,
To beat out the pulse,
To banter it around.

Or did they?

Maybe you should sit up,
Look up,
Wake up.

Maybe you should read the signs in nature,
Dance the dance in the wilderness,
Look into your soul man.

Maybe this is deeper than words?

Your voice is not your own
Maybe nobody has one?

We’re all just alone
(And silent.)

Maybe you’re just not listening

AND I COULD TRY SHOUTING?

My last resort

note:

There was a man, who was deaf selling sketches to raise money for an operation in Poland. He didn’t speak, only signed and even though I know a few phrases in sign language, we weren’t able to understand each other. I really enjoy languages and it felt weird to be so close to home, and yet so completely out of my depth. It got me thinking on how important it is to express ourselves, and how difficult it can sometimes be, even when we can speak the language. Freedom of speech is our basic right, and yet it can be so difficult to speak freely, even to those you love.