Silence does not have one meaning;
silence does not mean I cannot speak,
that I do not know how to speak,
that I cannot face problems in life.
No, I can speak. I know how
to write, to overcome problems
bravely, to speak when men
sadden me with comments, their minds closed,
minds that think I cannot speak…
No, No, No, No!
I speak very well, but you cannot hear me.
With my pen’s lips, I shout, with its mouth
I speak—each point, a pain,
each word, an injustice
each sentence, a scream for justice,
until I am not afraid, in this way
I continue bravely. And should I lose
my pen, or find no paper to write, I wonder,
sometimes, what will happen? What I will do?
I will scream until we get justice and equality,
for I hear a voice in my heart telling me:
You have to write, you should be writing
until you scream. You find a pen
ears are listening to you
eyes are looking, continue your way
with more power…
Yes I will write,
I will write bravely. Even if you sew my lips
you will not stop me. I found empathy
and I can scream with my pen’s lips
I will shout from the lips of my pen
until my last breath.
By Zahra W.
Photo by Cheney Orr.