The words they would not come
They were stuck inside of me like prisoners of war
Deprived of daily senses stored in some dark dungeon
I wanted to speak but silence prevailed
I surrendered to some not quaint argument of deceit
A voluminous package of verbiage was being denied
About to be swallowed and consumed like sour grapes
A metaphor, a simile, I could not even spit out
Grievances unspoken as if my tongue was broken
The knot in my throat was like a noose ready to squeeze
I'm boxed in and no one can hear my cry
These splintered thoughts must not die here
Slivers of light slice through the cracks
Giving me hope that another show is on the horizon
If only I was the ventriloquist and he sat on my knee
Then things would be different

Alfred Ramos

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silence-159/