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.