Silenced

A covered mouth
carries closed eyes,
so no one sees
the knots inside.


Her suppressed views
lay to reside,
constantly judged
opt to just hide.


A silenced tongue
helps keep her safe,
afraid to fall
or make mistakes.


Anything said
may cause offense.
Wears a thick skin
to shield defense.


Watches each word,
cancels her views.
Trying so hard
to still be true.


Most will demand
her honesty,
but crave her thoughts
always agree.


So she decides
to be herself,
by breaking free
of her hard shell.


To socialize
still being her,
showing the world
truths she offers
.

Reflective smiles
mirror her heart,
she is unique
a work of art.

Each step she takes
is filled with light.
Self-acceptance,
lets her shine bright.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

Possibility

What happened to humanity?
Did people lose their dignity?
Did hearts dissolve?
Did brains just freeze?
Did blindness reach infinity?


What if caring became a trend?
Will this bring all wars to an end?
Will we resolve?
Will anger cease?
Will we unitedly ascend?


What can we do to change this place?
Can one affect a stagnant space?
Can we evolve?
Can we see peace?
Can we smile bright and shine with grace?

If everyone finds inner light,
Conflicts will never lead to fights.
Problems will solve.
Hopes will increase.
Humanity can then unite
.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

Pick

A sunny window
shows birds flying free,
peace filling the air
joys swim in the breeze
.

A darkened shadow
obstructing all views,
dragging a thick chain
as the panic grew.

The calming warm wind
sound jingling chimes,
euphoric wishes,
travel far through time.

The loudest dog bark
is distantly heard,
screams freeze deep inside,
spoken words are slurred
.

Icy cold water,
a semi-parched throat.
Champagne everywhere,
glass up for a toast.

Consumed bitterness,
scratch thirsty dry throat.
Envisioning drinks,
finding a dry moat.

Nostrils sniff streams
of flowered perfumes.
An increasing scent,
as new ones just bloom.

Inhaling skunk musk,
lingered in the air.
Throwing both arms up,
while screaming, unfair!

Graze the reflection,
a sandpaper scrape.
No place left to run,
or hopes for escape.


A caressing touch
with the mildest hue,
breaks negative up,
showing what is true.



– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

.

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