I scream and shout, I’m but a whisper in the wind.
I flail and try to gain your attention, but I never win.
Running a race where my chances are slim,
Giving an arm, a leg, every limb.
Now I limp to my destination and crawl along the halls of destiny.
Destined to be forever lost, until someone recognises me.
Recognises that I am above societal norms,
Recognises that I’m perceived as greatness in many forms,
But we live in a world where substance and form fade.
Black and white are merely grey in different shades.
Talent is obscured by fame,
And we fall victim all the same.
All that differs is the gravitational pull.
You feed on the compliments until you’re full,
But full of false perceptions and blind devotion,
So instead of being loved, challenge the norm, start a motion.
Start a movement, have followers with theirs eyes open,
Let them challenge you because their minds are open.
And they’re hoping to surpass not suppress you,
Make themselves better and hold to what’s true,
Not to an image you no longer uphold,
But they drew a hand they refuse to fold.
So now their love and admiration has been sold,
Free of cost,
And now they have lost.
Not just individuality but a hold on actual reality.
So I scream, I shout,
I let all my anguish out.
I beg and I plead,
I pour my heart out and I bleed.
Don’t follow me to hell,
Simply because your heart fell.
Pull me up, keep me and make sure I’m freed.
Don’t let me succumb to the greed.
But you know where the story goes,
For the title clearly shows;
These are the whispers of the unheard,
No change has ever really occurred.
A Poet of Sin 