i cannot shout for they will hear me,
i cannot sing for i cannot and they will hear me.
i cannot play the guitar, for i will be heard.
i can cry, because nobody hears me.
I can wite, for nobody hears me.
i can think about my life, i can write about my life – for nobody hears me.
but i cannot shout these feelings – i cannot move them from my heart without them hearing me.
so i write my hearts dream on paper, with ink that touches paper and leaves behind my hearts feelings – for i cannot shout, nor sing, nor play the piano…
for i will be heard.
Stu