My Life Of Whispers

Stored up a poisonous rage and acidic resentment deep inside myself over external injustices

Bristled as the less timid squeaked out their shortsighted, greedy and furtive leadership deception

Lay in bed late at night and remade the world, got up tired and went tamely off again to my dull job

Grew hoarse deep inside from shouting out the truth, without even raising the slightest whisper

Too timid to open my mouth when it counted, too afraid to really stand up for anything at all

Too insecure to be a leader, too little self-confidence to try for even the second-best schools

Unable to push my way under the lights, wrapped up too tightly in my own silly phobias

Too often called a nothing when I was quite young, drilled on my inabilities, time and again

Too long alone with self-ingrained reproaches, mine was a life of whispers, no one else should hear

Too much time wasted on a foolish depression, overly attentive to meaningless internalities

Afraid to speak out thinking I might sound as stupid as them, yet poisoned by my own angry silence

Peeping shrill protests, but only to myself, shamed into empty muteness by my screaming insecurity

Too willing to just let them rape and waste, con and steal, defile and then righteously pontificate

Cowed into an uneasy and guilty silence by the deeply ground-in knowledge that they are my betters

Unable to be driven by greed and insecurity to back-bite, face-step and ass-kiss my way to the top

Railing only to myself in the empty solitude of long nights, but without releasing the smallest sound

Responding to atrocities, extinctions and propaganda with the merest shake of my head

Harboring secret plans to someday stand up for what I never actually stated out loud I believed in

Too happily turning over mind and senses to endless channel flipping and video games

Abbreviating my thought into chopped soundbite nonsense, constantly tweeting and texting

Never dared organize, distill and commit my complaints publicly for fear of a just ridicule

Jealously would not support others who spoke out, but kept my own words jumbled up inside

Too crippled by internal contradictions to ever get to my feet on my own and speak out at all

Too deeply mired in self-loathing to get beyond a mute mediocrity they treated as tacit acceptance

Lecturing, tutoring and even preaching, but only ever to myself, and just when I was alone

Able to see my own internal contradictions well enough to keep them balled up inside

A life of impotent whispering in dark halls that was never really meant for other’s ears at all

Forced to think in shouts over the idiot noise that gradually drove me deaf, even on the inside