Words are wasted on those who do not listen.
God bless their distracted little hearts.
They see my face twist and my eyes glisten,
But canât hear the pain I have dubbed as art.
They do not bend, or turn down their own thoughts.
Their opinions jump my words, tie and gag.
Egos swell like waves and waterboard me,
Cries suffocated with a plastic bag.
Voices forfeit, but they know they ...
