Why does the silence
behind a closed door
hurt as much as a slap.
Why do we blame and get blamed
by the ungraciousness of others.
Why do we bear heavy rocks
when we stand on legs of glass.
Why do we stay quiet against oppression
while we hold ourselves down.
I swallow my pride & shove
my sins into a puddle,
it starts to rain
& the puddle becomes
a river again.
The ocean snores
against the backdrop
of the cicadas.
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