I’ll never truly be ready The air is thick, my breath is unsteady Blurred vision, palms are sweaty The weight on my shoulders is overwhelmingly heavy Hope beacons through speech Peaking through bars in the dark Golden glowing hands are just out of reach Until silence dulls their spark Unnerving stillness, I can produce no sound Speak, Shout, Scream, Shriek Vocal chords are bound Succumb to burdened bleak Imprisoned by the...