The Mime

The silence we took for granted,
We simply chose not to see,
To him we did what we wanted,
Suppression reigned, he was never free.

Words failed him many times,
But his eyes told many a story,
They came in coloured images, not rhymes,
His past, both the downfalls and the glory.

His face was painted to please,
But what was behind it all,
He could never release,
It seemed, he was made to fall.

Hundreds of faces passed him by,
Day after day was just the same,
THEY were all free to speak, laugh and cry,
But he was no one, he had no name.

He was not to be heard, only seen,
That's what the ALL said,
"Dear Lord, of this cage strip me clean",
One day he knelt down and prayed.

He prayed for the light of day,
He prayed for a lending ear,
He prayed for good to cross his way,
And he prayed for no more fear.

All those times he tried to speak,
But never uttering a single word,
Finally the torture reached it's peak,
And his soul was finally as free as a bird.

-End-