Inventory of silences

The silence of the worker who no longer says no.

The silence of the teacher who no longer corrects the lies in the textbook.

The silence of the journalist who knows but does not publish.

The silence of the river beneath the concrete.

The silence of the tree before the chainsaw.

The silence of the sky when there are no more birds.

The silence of those who vote without believing.

The silence of those who walk without knowing where.

The silence of those who wait for something that will not come.

This poem is an inventory. It is incomplete. It will remain so.

Add your own silences. Nobody will hear you. That is precisely the problem.