Poems/short storys

Actions are your judge

Tired of the lies,
Tired of the hurt

Eyes that are looking,
But your mouth is shut,
It still says so many words,
You ask and I say no,
For each "no" you turn a blind eye,
For each "he isn't" is a another length of thread that gladly sews your mouth shut ever more,

You take no blame, claiming;
"I tried to stop it but you wouldn't let me"

But the thing is,
There was one thing you could have done,
That very mouth that has been sewn shut by your own very hand,
That mouth that could have made a difference never went to the police

Crying, "I think he's hurting my baby girl"

You could have considered it, what would I know,
But I know this,
Actions are for the count,
You say you took no part in the fowl thing that happened,
But with your silence it means you did,
With your actions it shows,
You may not have guilt now,
You may not have guilt then,
But when the time comes for your soul to be judged,
We all know you are going to pay the price for that silence.