The Buried Voice
Written by Aishat Adewoyin
The Buried Voice
I expressed myself without being told.
When they express theirs, I validate.
When I express mine, I’m told I’m childish.
Even in the wailing of a child,
His mother hears the need beneath the cry.
She reaches out, “I’m here, my little one.”
But from my corner, I wailed, I shouted.
Yet all I heard was my own echo.
In my mind, I dug a grave,
Burying my voice alive.
I vowed never to speak again.
What’s the point when words fall into silence?
My voice is gone.
It’s gone. It’s gone.
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