Speak

I have been a child,
trained not to speak.
Words were burning coals
that shouldn’t glide across my tongue.

They say,
they were poison to my being.
A turbulence to the world I live in.
The intricate thoughts and dreams
fumbling all into a word.
A piece of my mind,
all coming from within.

So I rather remain silent and still.
and withhold the poison within.
Or if I manage to find expression,
I rather babble and coo
like a baby stringing incoherent words.

But I have seen the light,
the life the words I speak bring forth.
And not even for me alone,
but a thousand more others.

A delight to my belly,
and light to others.
Now that I know,
I won’t speak,
I will scream.

To read more poems like this, click this link