I Meant to Say

We've been trapped before

Held in place by iron shackles so cold and unmoving

Eventually, we can break them and run free

But what about the ones with a cage around their voice?

Straining and flushing hot red

To utter even the simplest of words

To let someone know, "I'm good, how about you?"

Our voice is snatched by a thief, taking letters before we can speak

Whispering lies of our worth through words

Trumpeting to the world about our sentences, incomplete

It's not something we overcome once like an important interview

It's a condition we're forced to accept and adapt to, with no signature

Perhaps it's no wonder then

That we are most resilient

Succeeding as actors, artists, dancers, musicians, and writers

Or in business, engineering, law, medicine, and research

Not just because of our diligence to communicate through words

But also because of our capabilities to express without