Who will give me voice
when my fractured words
spill across a rented sky,
and rain upon a drowned world?

Who will give me sound
to voice the pain
that lords my world
of unfathomable depths?

For are not you all
so consumed by life
that you swallow the tale
of your own beginnings?

Why have you bound yourself
so tight with chains of want
that weigh your heart
into a quicksand of despair?

When will you see
the discontent of a future
you have sowed, with seeds
altered by your mendacious past?

Who will give me voice
to call across chasms of yearning
for a life that should be,
yet is now lost for all time.

Peter Freeman lives on an island on the west coast of Canada. He writes non-fiction and fictional novels, screen and stage plays, short stories, magazine articles, and poetry. He has two books published, Cape Horn Birthday (non-fiction), and Growth (50 poems). Read other articles by Peter.