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Writer's pictureDuduzile R Skosana

Bottled Voice

I was screaming, shouting on top of my voice

But my shouting voice turned no one

I felt abundant, left in the woods with no one to turn to

I was frustrated feeling neglected

The walls were closing in with no escape.


Only to realise my voice was bottled

Bottled inside me, caged inside my frame

It was all inside my head

How did i expect someone to turn

When it did not reach them.


When it could not reach the high mountains,

And make wild animals run.

When it could not blow trees

And make birds flap and cheep.


Practically I was voiceless

My views were not heard

I needed to let my voice free

Free from the fair of judgement

Speak my own truth and be heard.


I found power

Wings to fly to higher mountains

Travel through the air with birds

The ability to tame wild animals

And the strength to blow trees

It all happened, when my bottled voice was unbottled.

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