Saturday, November 23, 2013

Silent voices

I am a honk which people blow
Only for them to grow

They make up things about me
Which I myself don't agree

They make me a toy
To suit their ploy

They imagine me in different forms
And fill their minds with zillion thoughts

They say I am suppressed and oppressed They call for my freedom and term me depressed

To them I am like the imaginary black hole Taking in all pain, living without any goal

They claim to end my suffering
But in reality they care only about their earning

They want to celebrate their success and glory
They make me the vehicle for their selfish joy

For if they truly cared, they would ask me what I truly want
And not make assumptions and make up all their rant

They will see my joy in the way I live
And learn to respect the way I thrive

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