Silent warriors speak from turning

the pages of tattered books,

drowning in the drunken chords,

and gathering curious looks.

Get that girl a camera

and let her photos tell a story

of days in armored history

and nights of fading glory.

Get that man a pen

and let his words speak and shout

on paper and in notebooks,

wearing them all out.

Get that gal a paintbrush

and let her masterpiece spar and win,

because suffering in silence

is the only deadly sin.

Get that guy a guitar

and let his music ring loud and true,

into the clouds and through the streets

their legacy will be your only clue.

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