Spit and anger and words came careening out of his mouth
Louder and louder with every sentence
He paints his story
It is one not without pain
Suffering
Injustice
The words come out of his mouth like a breaking dam
Rushing and gushing and spewing away, into the world
He says “it’s all B.S.”
And why?
Because their stories are a trickle, told to few
Too painful to recount
With no voice to speak with
A soundless scream
A plea for help
And nothing answering it
And he, living his life given by luck
Sits in his home
Shouting, screaming, begging anyone to listen
Wanting to feel heard
So how can he know?
How can he understand?
When all he wants is to feel heard
So he can’t see through the fog of his own making
Those who were not as lucky
Those with silent screams
Louder and louder with every sentence
He paints his story
It is one not without pain
Suffering
Injustice
The words come out of his mouth like a breaking dam
Rushing and gushing and spewing away, into the world
He says “it’s all B.S.”
And why?
Because their stories are a trickle, told to few
Too painful to recount
With no voice to speak with
A soundless scream
A plea for help
And nothing answering it
And he, living his life given by luck
Sits in his home
Shouting, screaming, begging anyone to listen
Wanting to feel heard
So how can he know?
How can he understand?
When all he wants is to feel heard
So he can’t see through the fog of his own making
Those who were not as lucky
Those with silent screams
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