The second poem I am posting here was chosen for a
reason – not aesthetic but ideological. It is called Inaudible and I find it
appropriate: as the voices online are growing in number, they are in equal
measure diminishing in strength so as to allow for many of us to have ourselves
heard. Nonetheless, I do hope there will be power in numbers.
INAUDIBLE
Behind the curtain
A rose is wilting
Under the mask
A frozen tear
And life marches on
Our distant shuffle
Barely audible…
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