Actions minus the spoken word
Your silent pain,
the falling rain
without the pitter patter heard.
Imprisoned in an invisible cage,
visible be your rage.
Bound by chains, not really there
Passers by begin to stare.
Free from silence you wish to be,
if only they could do more than see;
The blood soaked clothing,
Pure hate and loathing.
Captive in a room of glass
Everyone looking through,
peering in at the black and blue.
Call for help; they cannot hear
even when they are so near.
The minutes go on by
all that's left is for you to die.
Your last moments hold a silent prayer,
sent out so that others may know - may care
about your Mimes of Suffering.

© Danni Goldring, 2006