Too Many Voices More

I listen to the silence of the night.
Though we deem it quiet, silent just isn’t quite right.
I can hear the bristling of the leaves. 
Imagination plays with sound to make it be what I believe.

I listen to the sorrow in the sky.
I know so many people suffer day after day, night after night.
In the black air present under the moon a shroud is cast hiding some poor souls doom.

Perhaps I should listen to the many voices more.
Perhaps with people you can hear humanity explore.
But long in tooth I now know I am.
I’ve seen what man can do to man.

We never seem to get it, we never seem to learn. Another round, another turn.
History sadly repeats itself on this merry go round of humanity burying racial progress and rationality into the ground.

I love the quiet, I love the moon. 
I feel at peace with a glowing fire in a quiet, dark room.
I’d sooner hear the sounds play in my mind than the lies and broken promises of my kind.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace