One voice, unheard
My words are intangible cannot be seen or touched
But the flow of my voice can contribute inspiration too much
As fluid to an empty soul to the movement of a stagnant pole
To the character of a stardom role my words will not freeze to the climaxed cold
Who did not make me cannot break me
Nor any other shackles can succumb or take me to a level that will not escape me
May be the words of a writer’s block
But that struggle revamps with a timing clock released from the smell of 90 degree boiling pot
Written or spoken it’s felt with passion of hoping
That the immediate release of this potent will have you less naïve and much open
These words may not make mountains move
But the eloquence of the soft spoken unheard voice will prove there’s nothing to lose
One voice unheard, too many
All types of lingos and other verbal communications have our minds blown to the max of entry
Via mail or telegraphic memory
It started with a ball point pen and a black and white composition notepad from me
Mentally inclined but visually unfocused to a world that isn’t mine
Have I been undermined to the impression that uncertainty resides?
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