The Unheard Poem by Erika Conti

Unheard cries of help. year after year how many unheard voices clog the sky like screaming ghosts. it s like an unpaid debt a remote earth's sense of guilt. Suddenly a few black birds crush against these voices, somewhere in time and they take care of their pain.. somewhere in space.. and when this happens in that second tears stop from rolling down the cheecks and life gets back in the eyes in the form of rage.because the unheard is always filled with rage.
like an anti-mantra.