A voice on its own
Poetry Corner
Listen to the audio version of this article here!*
A voice on its own
is just a whisper
Quiet. Unheard. Meaningless.
But can’t they hear?
That voice is a plea;
a cry for help, a scream for justice,
for anyone willing
to listen.
How loud must we speak to be heard?
Louder than the guns
that tear up our homes?
How long must we speak
for our message to get through?
Days? Weeks? Months? Years?
Issue after issue is brought under the spotlight.
When it’s our turn,
for the smallest second
they acknowledge our injustice,
then cast us aside.
And life goes on.
What of the issues
still wilting in the dark?
Waiting for someone,
anyone to speak of them?
Where is our justice?
We have the choice,
to speak as one,
yet we waste our voices.
Why is it that when we unite,
it is so often to spread pain and insecurity?
To plant seeds of doubt;
nurture seedlings of anger;
fill our hands with weapons and words.
When will our voice be heard?
How many will carry the torch
of our legacy,
fighting to keep it glowing?
It is nothing more than a spark now.
A dimming spark
that once shone so bright.
A voice on its own is nothing.
A voice combined with another is nothing.
A voice combined with a thousand is nothing.
A voice combined with the whole world is nothing.
For if the ears of the universe are covered
And its heart divided,
then how will we unite?
We’ve fought the same battles.
We’ve followed the same rules.
We’ve fought for the right to stand where we are.
And you still deem us
the monsters
We should not fear getting shot.
We should not fear our families being torn apart.
Our torch will burn for centuries.
Those who try to extinguish it:
you will not stand a chance.
For we use our voices,
our tongues,
for truth and justice,
for fairness and equality.
No boundaries will restrain us
from our true potential.
A voice on its own, can make a difference.
If you know where to look.
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