That kind of validation should be but the silence among the lambs.
A quietness to never be heard.
A whisper that wants to be a scream but doesn't exactly know how.
As if to say I have a question, yet I'm to afraid to ask.
A game of self pity.
Beckoning for attention.
As if it's our fault of that which they did not mention.
A homeless man walking on the poorest streets of the city.
A prostitute getting in the car with another Jon in a place known for such vices.
We have to take notice and We have to stand out to be noticed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem