we have been to silent and they
think we are but a pair of sad stories
always being told at bedtime
i do not like this silence. Deadening
my ears have become caves
for bats (who cares? i care now
i want to see the world with all its noise
and troubles)
why? (common let us make all the noise
we can muster, let us shout, scream,
jump, stamp our feet, hit the walls with
our fists, and run wild into the forest,
splash our bodies to the rivers
of time..
why? oh why?
(simple. so we can forget our own
miseries, these silent murderers
shooting us
for nothing.)
let us not be too silent.
are we not mistaken by them as
dead?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem