SILENCE
There will never be complete silence.
If you are famous, you will never acknowledge silence.
You will always hear the flashing of a camera,
Or the sound of reporters around you.
You will hear the clamor of fans
If you are a soldier, you will never acknowledge silence.
When you lie in your bed at night, you hear the quiet talking of another soldier
Or the past screams and yells from fallen soldiers.
If you have fallen deaf, you will still imagine the sounds that surround you.
You will hear the cry for battle,
And the many times you woke at dusk.
You may be an artist, but you will never acknowledge silence.
You require the concentration and focus of creating art.
Your imagination roaring as you paint or draw,
Colors exploding on the page the moment an array of hues are in hand.
The never-ending intonation of the brush you paint with,
And the art expressing itself once it is done,
If you are a firefighter, you will never acknowledge silence.
You will hear the constant sirens of police and ambulances rushing,
Or the alarm sounding off.
You will hear the screams and yelling of people dying
In the rooms you could not get to in time.
Or you will hear the thank you’s from the people you saved
From the burning building you risked your own life.
You may be just you, you will never know silence.
Even then, the silent thoughts in your mind, questioning what silence is.
You will hear a monotone hum through the vents and air,
Or the swish-swash, tumbling of clothes washing or drying.
The whoosh of the cars as they pass,
Or the gentle scampering of the birds and squirrels outside.
If you are a writer, you will never experience silence.
No matter how hard you try, you will hear the ideas ringing in your head.
Every little detail you see, constantly evolving into a new plot.
You can get close, but you will never really know silence.
The silence has always been broken,
By the thoughts that race through your mind.