PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This to ya so called friends
Perched at tha end of ya bed
Ready with the needle and thread
Soon as your eyes shut, your head genst the pillow
They laugh while they sew
And they cut of ya voice
And you used to be quiet outta choice
Now you don't speak.
Not a peep
Clutching your throat
But only mumbles come out
Skip forward two years
Two gallons of tears
And nightmares and fears
Skip past all the secrets she hear
We here
Couple of weeks ago I saw a girl with no voice
Dint seem that she had a choice
Surrounded by loud noise
Uncaring girls and boys
I pull her away off to the side
And I look in her eyes
See her soul, I'm surprised
She used to be silent
Just secondary character
She used to be a stagehand
But they made her stronger
Voiceless she wants to storm the stage
She filled with rage
She just needs a way to convey her feelings, her contempt for each silent day.
I pull out a pen and a pad, undamn all those feelings she had.
She writes so fast her pens a blur
So fast friction ignites the paper
And I read burned in words
Like some voodoo curse
Saying
they will hear my verse

She's happy for a time
Writing out a book full of lines
Listing grievances, joys and her supposed crimes
But its never enough
She built this home out of her imagination
But she's tired, tired of her still silent indignation
She's looking for a forum to spread this information
To plant a seed of her experience to grow across this nation
She decides to have an operation to remove these binding threads
That were unreasonable forced while she slept in her bed
4 hours later they wake her
Open her mouth and hear her voice shout, when she speaks its so loud.
She stands on this stage, spitting bars venting her rage, unleashing a tempest
Her voice calls down storms and with her new voice she feels reborn
So she picks up the microphone, and she forms
Powerful words, which she casts out, hoping that they will take root and last.
And they so busy listening, they never hear me laugh, they so focused on her words they never notice my past, they are watching her so they never see my lips curving, they never see cross hatched scars.
Yeah
Couple of weeks ago I saw a girl with no voice
Dint seem like she had a choice
She couldn't event tell me her name
Now she spits flames,she aint looking for fame
She just never wants to be silent again.