Encryption Poem by James Wicklund

There are languages found to be useless,
desperately discarded,
strewn in the dark alleys of thought.

There are moments
when we don't allow the voice to speak.

We have words
that no one has ever heard.


Agreement gets a nod.
Tears express hurt.
Anger is swallowed.

We stand mute in horror's presence.

We stare into emptiness
when we have no answer to give,
there in the dark, silent alleys of thought.