A silent whisper is uttered,
none hear it's as if it were stuttered.
It's loud and its clear, the only problem
being no one wants to hear.
The screams of frustration are weary,
tearful and full of desperation.
The lack of attention leaves you fed up.
like a book with worn our pages,
that no one wants to read.
So you leave, cutting your broken
heart from your worn and tattered sleeve.
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Opuss has given me a love of words and writing...
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