A forgotten child and a lonesome mother speak the same language.
The language of wailing,
The language of sobbing,
The language of being dunked and drowned in pain.
But it is only spoken when desperate,
When wanting change but none has come.
Only spoken when your core has been torn,
and your inhabited soul has become lifeless and vacant.
Only spoken through tears, for tears are the language of disparity.
And the mother and child still speak the same language.
No comments:
Post a Comment