Who hears me but the rain?
When I’m a crying mess and ashamed
Who really listens?
Who really cares to know?
What makes my ship sink?
What makes my boat float?
I’ll be honest, it feels like no one
And I don’t even really know if this is a poem.
I mean is it really a song,
if no one listens?
And I know they hear it in my voice
And they see it in my face
Yet they still don’t ask
But if they do they never really
Listen.
Essence the Poet ✍🏾 