promises of the damned
the broken & the bruised
they are used against us
stitched together with threads of hair
DNA from the lost ones
needles made from fragile bone
of those too afraid to speak
words knotted into paragraphs ,
run-on sentences causing confusion
mass hysteria filling lungs
clogging passages for air flow
producing new generations,
though not afraid to speak
they inherited hushed minds
thinking:
this is the future
the past never to be the same
we;
not free to say out piece
or speak our minds to say the least --
silenced tones produced by vocal chords
echo in ones ears,
knowing that silence is the best way to win a war
win a war where there is to be no love
win a war that we never started
win a war we never wanted
our silence a protest
for those we've forgotten
d.n.
YOU ARE READING
breathe {poetry}--
Poesíathis is not poetry it is emotion in its purest form; words
