Writer

Writer

Writer

I am just a passerby, take no notice of me
While I take note of everything

I won’t say a word, don’t fuss
Only my eyes are open, my mouth is sealed
And it’s only a pen in my hand, no weapon of mass destruction

I won’t try to change the constitution, sit tight
I won’t campaign at the mall or advocate for human rights
Save for my right to write

I don’t have a heart to give away
I bled my heart on scraps of paper
That the wind blew to unknown places

I am the voice on paper, spare a glance
I am the voice without a face, or a name
Anyone’s voice, speaking to those willing to listen