I feel it’s best to tell the tale of how this page got it’s name,
My mind it searched for something different, but all things sounded the same.
There seems to be nothing new anymore,
every songs been sung, every written word.
We’ve seen it all, it’s all been read,
there’s nothing that hasn’t already been said.
Yet I’m still one tiny life amoung them all,
my voice, it matters, though ever so small.
The most damaging voice is not the loudest to speak,
Nor those who shout from the mountain peak,
Nor those in the spotlight so strong and bold,
Nor those who spew hatred, hearts ever so cold,
Nor those who twist the truth into lies,
and turn a pure person into an object to despise,
It’s not those words spoken directly to kill,
nor is it the noise of those with stubborn will.
The most damaging voice is those who don’t speak at all,
Those who know what is right, but refuse to recall.
Those who withhold the good from those who deserve it,
who see the truth, but refuse to preserve it.
Those who see a wrong done, only to turn away,
Never standing up to evil, but walking the other way.
Those who witness a bully hurting their peer,
but turning aside and trembling in fear.
For there’s little harm just one person can do,
But those who stop them are far too few.
And the less evil’s resisted the larger it grows,
until we think the land is full of darkened foes.
But if every small voice would stand up and call out,
The earth would but shatter from such a loud shout.
For each person alive must make the choice,
To just stay silent or to use their small voice.