Pen at standstill
The parchment flutters.
Every gust,a stoic urge
Goading thoughts to broadcast words.
Compliance of mind,yet heart defiant
The unspoken chorus,translated to a soprano
Going after an adrift purpose,
When the race runs opposite
Criticism becomes staple
And the grapevine not far behind.
Is the meaning worth the listening ears?
Is it worth the jeering vitriol?
How does one explain the value of things deemed worthless?
How does one smile when the eyes speak?
What if, the heart was never defiant?
Would that have meant peace?