Often it's the silence
So deafening in its roar
Speaking in myriad tongues
A million languages
Of the heart.
The unspoken
The unheard
The taboo
That which is subdued.
The half open eyes,
Supposedly windows to the heart
Afraid to reveal
What goes on within.
The lips a strange line
Half a smile
Of pain or joy
Or is it sorrow,
I shall never know.
This life, a strange business
Voices are subdued
Cannot feel
Cannot speak
Only to live
Only to be!
YOU ARE READING
Silence
PoetrySome silences are telling. They are palpable and speak in thunderous tones.
