A Silent War

Walking through the throng of people, I fight a silent war
Of stories and subplots where I clearly don’t belong.
A cocoon of blaring voices surrounds me,
Like a heavy blanket, thick with questioning.

They move like a herd of unintelligible sheep,
Too focused on a common, mediocre thought.
And here I stand, pushing a barrel of my ideas,
And withheld truths into a torrent sea of struggle

They work like mules, dreaming of borrowed futures,
Shackled by the hands of those who shall nurture.
But in this bright affair, I cage my emotions deep,
A silent scream pressing against my moral core.

My inner self pushes at the walls of restraint,
Longing to be discovered in the dissonance.
But I am weighed down by my self-claimed fear—
Of getting lost, of not finding a way, of not having a home.

I wear a cloak of confidence with a hint of false ego,
So brittle, with a faint whisper of “I don’t care.”
But I do—clutching the mask, holding the disguise,
A soothing balm for the ache of my plight.

This battle of conflict—of never being enough,
Of wanting to break free from cycles of lies,
From fake liabilities, broken trust, unfulfilled dreams—
Leaves me aching for a place of my own.

A familiar home, where you and I belong,
With no fences of toil, no walls of judgment.
Only warm air of companionship and sympathy,
And a freedom wide enough to keep us whole.

*****