Voices Poems - Poems about Voices

There are voices all around us Not loud, not obvious, But aching to be heard. Within this poem lies three unheard stories Three souls, each silenced by society A woman who smiles in fear. A boy punished for love. And a girl whose dreams shrink in the shadows. Their pain is different, But their silence is the same. This poem is for them For the unheard,...

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We dont have to use our voice to scream Because a voice isn't just words It's art, it's our presence, it's how we exist It's being unapologetically black Our presence is like the rain after a drought And the rain nourishes the ground It's like walking into a room and it's brought back to life Where once was darkness, has now been...

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the chant of reason and truth sheds light that ripples through the voices of our souls...

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Inner voices sound disturbed Behave yourself sent via thoughts Sleep has deserted me, so confused Time to visit long ago scenes Find my friends of time gone by I find myself on the pathway of ocean views Crashing waves and sea gull calls greet me No one around to view my crazy antics Facing the ocean, arms open wide, calling out names A voice...

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In silent keys, their voices fade, Clara’s theremin weeps where poets strayed. No human hand, yet sorrow sings, A ghostly hum through broken strings. Their verses, once of flesh and fire, Now echo cold in digital pyre. The authentic heart, its rhythm gone, Replaced by code’s unfeeling song. Mourn the scribes whose truths decay, In circuits deep, they slip away. Yet still we chase their...

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I hear voices in my head, I touch pain On every television Except the typical symbols Of hegemony Except in a white building Miles and miles away, I touch pain! For every leaf that falls, Swallowed by the burning hell From the mighty birds Of weird names F 16, F 35... I hear these voices, We hear these voices - Miles away, node in unison, "The world...

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Without my pen, the pain becomes my voice. The cruelty of others, the hardness of their hearts, Linger in this place of cult, Where public shaming is currency. I scream for help, face to face, Yet they cast me deeper into despair. Tears bleed red, patience drains, My heart trembles, a silent echo in the vast universe. My eyes never dry, my body...

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morning light through window a song heard in my dream lingers living beyond time birds outside my window sing I hear the voice of angels a conversation with a friend I showed her a poem she read between the lines silence said more the words a beginning perhaps silence said more than words she read between the lines I showed her a poem a conversation with a friend I...

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When grief became a shadow It felt as if nothing else mattered Like a sudden darkness Raining down upon us Like sucking the light from our eyes Like a wound opened multiple times It follows you like a stalker Creepily walking behind you Keeping an eye on your every moment And when you think you outsmarted it When you take a deep breath...

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I wear a thimble to protect me from blows I can't see the enemy, But I got to fight anyway I suppose. My thimble's a bit battered Worn down by old wounds I might need to get a new one Till then this will do. My kingdom depends on me I guess so, Haven't heard from them in many moons. I fight, waving about a...

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Be a still shadow when the void is smeared onto concrete walls. The void— a deafening drone— devours shadows that dare speak. It closes in, fast— in my head it whispers: Join us. You are hollowed enough to blend in without fault. I sit still— because I was told: If I move—If I shiver— I become the smeared void....

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Dare I share my intrusive thoughts Once suicidal in a mood so dark I actually tried to stop my heart Using vitamins to sin with life to part It was a low that got so deep Manic tide had overcome me Was hearing voices in trilogies Mad as I was bipolar buried I recall walking outside Collapsed in the sunshine Barely recall ambulance ride Feeling lost...

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These voices, a cacophony of din, ring in my head, but most of them aren't mine. Somehow, they found their way under my skin. Most are not nice, anything but benign, masquerading as my true voice within. Their suggestions, it's better to decline. They tell me I must do all kinds of stuff, because, otherwise, I'm not good...

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I can’t remember who I was, before voices other than mine stepped in. I think I wanted to be a movie director, a script I read in kindergarten— a line or two still hums when I dream. I think I wanted to be a fashion designer, my first sketches— heels like daggers, dresses stitched with thunder. I think I wanted to be a writer,...

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I was sitting near the shore, listening to the waves. The blue and the night sky spoke to me like never before. Their distant voices became dull— something inside me twirled. The sound of the waves was just like the voices, long forgotten. Sand...

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