Don’t Hush a Poet, you Kill Them Slowly
When you quiet the poet,
You sip a bit of their breath,
With words unspoken by them,
Broken piece by piece a little of them diminish, and our world thrives in darkness.
As the Sparrow loves daybreak,
And as a dare pants for water,
So does the soul of a poet seek release,
Talking and observing gives their spirit flight,
Let the poet’s expressions create beauty and comfort.
If they are humans enough by all your definitions, silent and bent,
You will be dwindling them, dent by dent,
Birds they were formed, spirited to sing at will,
But if the world, insists on silence then what is the need for words?
They have to say their marbles,
For even a silent love kills; who is a poet without desire or a place to quench their thirst,
They have to say their thoughts,
Unashamed unafraid if they may, but you say even love must be quiet.
Teach their hearts then to beat, without a pulsating sound,
Teach their minds to think unheard, if that be possible,
Yes teach their wise knowledgeable soul not to transform,
I dare ask you then the need for innovation?
When a poet is hushed is like calling love a choice of rights,
Making darkness light, saying to dream is not to hope.
Dear poet let your skill thrive uncompromising truth for lies,
Dear poet be the life.
Don’t hush a poet, you kill them slowly.
