BY FIDELMA SAEVARU
I used sit in silence. Watch from a tiny distance. Pretend I was deaf to the things I heard. Wished I was blind to the stuff I saw. Denied strong emotions to what I felt. That was before. Today I know the plight of silence. A bashed-up wife, A beaten daughter, Son out of control, Family in chaos, Community in detest, Stranger in the neighbourhood, Item of gossip groups. Those are the ripples of silence. Tomorrow, I gain my voice My ears all hearing, My eyes all seeing My feelings attentive, My mind discerning, My tongue filed. Master Silence I no longer tolerate. To him I cease to bow. His reign I will forever end, A captive I shall be no more. Silence me not. I have gained my voice for sure. Setting me free and others too.