A poem in French
Stuttering love whispered by a bashful child
Words screamed from my hands
The desperate cry of silent eyes
All the stories burned in the fire of imperfection
All the mouths tight with anger
All the eyes closed against fear
All the things we have not said
Someone tell me to speak my heart
Someone make his hands write the words
Someone listen to her bloody truth
And someone make us speak
We need a different language, a better way
Different people, a better hope
Different eyes that tell a better truth
Different mouths that do not curse
They say in heaven, love comes first,
But you don’t look like love to me
So tell me the truth
Where’s all the love we’re supposed to share?
Hiding behind our stale words
Sliding from our shaking hands
Squeezed from our unwilling hearts
Desecrated by our failing trust
Dusty shrine with offerings rank
Worshipers clothed in yesterday’s rags
Hope left to drown in filth an eon too long
Shrine and mire indistinguishable
Where’s the love we’re supposed to share?
Where are the words that speak the truth?
Where is the person who can read my eyes?
Where is my home, my family, they who speak my tongue?
Speak your truth to me and I will listen
Watch my eyes and you will see my heart
Fall upon your knees and we will be together
Remove your armor and find the love we’re supposed to share