The voices

The voices.

Voices, every where,
Everyday with every say.
Worthy or non worthy,
With a cocktail of glasses,
Class or crass, combined,
Jubilant, jovial or sarcastic.

No one hears the pitiful,
burning their ego.
Some implode within oneself
Some toxic to the core.

The crumbling voice,
carry the flavour it beholds.
The jubilant one creates
the atmosphere sojourn.

Sensible, the voice, connotes
the upheaval of emotions.
Plight of the under dogs,
grease no one except the
palms of the greedy.

Adventurous or not,
the voices mingle
with pleasantry.
Direct or some indictment
they carry the poisonous ivy.

Cohorts and notsowelcome fretters  
Grind the unsavoury jitters.

The voices carry
the faith, the prayers,
the truth, the ultimate sense,
the untold miseries and
the divine interlude
benefitting the young and
Old alike.

They, like a sharpened knife
kill the sensitive souls,
break the relations,
seed the ill will among others,
and may give solace to the orphan.

Mere words voiced
in a cage full of empty promises
harms the heard ,and
slams the billy nilly.

The cultured never ever
antagonise with words of despair.
The callous words ruins
a generation of youthful next.

Poetic words enthrall the audience.
Fiery ones shows the sickning of mind.
The selling words stops at naught.
Bereft of words stalks the cause.


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