I aim my voice

When I speak of love I aim my voice
to my parents who brought me here
and taught me how to deal with the cruelties of the world,
my freshman year english teacher who cared even after I left
my journalism teacher who cared even longer,
my friends who I've known since before I could multiply
and the ones that came at just the right time
all of them changed me for the better

When I speak of cruelty I aim my voice
to the obvious evildoers who kill in cold blood
who take daughters and sisters in their sleep
who lust after power or money or women
and do horrible things to get what they want
but my voice also goes to the people
who deny love to those who brought them up
who stay silent and stand idle when they are needed
who take too much and give nothing back
who tromp over the grass and pollute the sky
and to myself of course as well

When I speak of gratitude I aim my voice to the sky
so that it echoes off the atmosphere and is carried by the wind
across mountains and oceans and clouds and seas
so the birds can hear it loud and clear
and mimic its sweet sweet sound
so that hopefully it is carried far enough
for enough people to hear it
so they start repeating it themselves

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