VoicesA Poem by Vanessa
Tell me, darling, what is your voice.
“Spoken,” she answers. “Noise, noise, noise.”
Now tell me, I shout at her, what will you say??
“I’ll tell you of my necklace,
My bright and blissful diamonds.
Let me acquaint you with my input.”
But dearie, I shout, what if I don’t heed.
For objects don’t matter,
Contemplation I need!!
And from diamonds you feed.
So what is your voice??
And what do you make of it??
From here, I will tell you,
She surely gets angry.
“I’ll tell you of denial;
They didn’t like my pearls.”
Not a soul gives a care for your quarrels!! The noise,
The noise that you speak of
Indisputably comes from a bus,
From a speaker.
The noise of voice,
Of true input
Surely comes from ones’ lips,
Ones’ pen,
From the blue rain
And then…
You can see that your pearls mean s**t.
“NO!” she stands,
Silly necklace dancing around her neck.
“A voice is a tool. I can tell
What I mean.
I can speak and be seen!”
Closer, you are.
I won’t tell a lie.
But input means nothing
If twisted with wrier.
What have you gained
In voicing the precious existence of wares??
“Fine!!” Now she’s shouting. She tries to comply.
“A voice..”
…Is the reason you’re starting to cry.
© 2008 VanessaReviews
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5 Reviews Added on October 13, 2008 Last Updated on October 13, 2008 AuthorVanessaAbout-As an introduction . . . . every place that I go gets an even number of steps. Yet, I don't very much like symmetry. -I love the smell of wet moss when it rains. -There's this ama.. more..Writing
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