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Quiet Voices
Can you hear them? Can you hear the quiet voices or see the pleading eyes? They are everywhere, following desperation and loss, holding tight to the last glimmers of hope left in a mind. For some, the voices stay a long time, but with every cold gaze staring past that spark of hope fades, just a little, until it fizzes out, leaving a cold shell behind that sits, broken, on the curb.
If cherished, that tiny spark can be stoked to a tiny flame, then a raging fire. Only one kind word, one tiny gesture, and the dying spark could be revived. The voices could grow louder and the eyes could grow strong. That fire could go on to light more, spreading the word of the dying sparks and opening the eyes of others to their power over the slowly dying flames. It takes just one person to see, to be the first to open their eyes and do something. Just one person to notice the destruction wrought upon the world by the world.
Why does it always come to this? Why are people so cold-hearted that we have allowed our fellows to fall into despair while we stand by and pretend not to see? Not noticing will not make the problem go away; only action can do that. More and more voices grow quieter, more and more people silently seek help, and more and more turn icy gazes to the horizon and blind themselves to the blight that has fallen upon their neighbors.
Quiet voices call out, pleading eyes peer at those passing, and icy gazes lose their sight. The warmth of fires slowly fades to sparks, wavering in the breeze, until those too go out. A word, a single word, could save some. An action, just one, could save many.
Quiet voices, pleading eyes. Can you see them suffering? Can you hear them?
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Can you hear them? Can you hear the quiet voices or see the pleading eyes?