There are voices that become silent

on the wrong side of life

in the empty bedroom

in the forgotten wishes.

 

There is silence in the lost look

in hurt thoughts

in bitter hearts

In folded hands.

 

There is ignorance in excess

in the eternal prison

of the stolen knowledge

of the denied memory.

 

There is violence stealing life

shooting fear

staining the ground

of blood and shame.

 

There are claims and anguish

in the chest broken by pain

in the unintelligible look

of misery and of hunger.

 

There is rage breaking out

of silenced phrases

in tired words

in prisons of egoism.

 

There is enough evil circling

in the emptiness of the soul

in the traps of the night

in the shadows of the day.

 

There are abandoned dreams

in the sleeping earth

in the forbidden mornings

in the witheld future

 

But there are shadows

that return from the deep well.

There are hands that make the ground sprout

the dry seed that becomes bread.

 

There is freedom in the cries

that echo around the city.

There are insatiable desires

converted in fights.

 

There are forged dreams

in the core of the soul

dreams that build

and rebuild the verse.

 

There is poetry pouring

from the song of those

breakdown the doors of the soul

and in all men

sow hope.