Dead silence

What a life.

And at the grave, a father stands,

With a sunken head, folded arms,

And at the foot of a grave,

A mother kneels.

You're listening to what I've left unsaid,

To say in those last weeks of long sickness,

Still, there's a beautiful truth behind all these jugglings.

But we have to die in silence.

Black who suffers humiliation aspires colour,

Affluent says he is not blessed with time to enjoy,

Terrorist blames the culture of moderation,

Unemployed says he has no luck getting a job.

Nobody hears you when you scream,

Nothing you can do,

But to cut the dream,

And just die in silence.