tscottsstuff

[tscottsstuff]

In this ever turmoiltuous world, I very much appreciate your poems. I find it pretty easy to get caught up in the chaos and shut down sometimes, this is very grounding in reminding me that I can do something; even if that something is as small as defiance. Thank you for this <3

Hey, thank you so much for this message.

It honestly means more than I can put into words.

I write these poems as a way to process the chaos too—to stay grounded, to fight the numbness, and sometimes just to whisper back at the silence.

The fact that something I wrote helped you feel even a flicker of strength or defiance?

That makes all the storms worth it.

We’re both sketching our way through it—line by line, truth by truth.

You’re not alone.

Stay defiant.

[tscottsstuff]

No More-

No more silence swallowed like bitter wine,

while liars grin beneath electric signs.

No more flags draped over sins,

waving freedom while the soul thins.

No more chains in the shape of laws,

zipties binding truth with unspoken claws.

No more masked men without a name,

dragging voices into shadows without shame.

No more looking away,

while justice bleeds out in broad day.

No more “just doing my job” excuses,

when the job is breaking hearts and nooses.

No more prayers that cost our breath,

tossed like pennies at the feet of death.

No more begging at democracy’s feet

for crumbs of hope in a rigged deceit.

No more sleepwalking through the smoke,

choking on every lie they spoke.

No more numbing to survive—

we are hearts on fire, fully alive.

We are not the quiet. We are the roar.

We are the locked door kicked off its core.

We are the storm that writes the lore—

the reckoning’s whisper: No more.

[tscottsstuff]

In a world where silence often speaks louder than words, this poem confronts the cost of our quiet complicity. For those who still believe in the power of voice, this is for you.

The Price of Silence-

They told us silence was wisdom,

that biting your tongue was brave.

But silence is a blade we hold inward—

cutting truth from our throats

while the world burns politely.

It doesn’t keep the peace—

it buries it.

A neighbor dragged out at dawn.

You shut the blinds.

A child asked why the world hurts.

You changed the channel.

A woman stood and screamed,

“This is wrong!”

You said, “She should’ve known better.”

But the silence took notes.

It learned your posture,

wore your calm like armor.

It held the door for the powerful,

nodded along to the lie,

and whispered in the dark,

“Go ahead. They won’t stop you.”

And still, the children are watching—

eyes wide in a world that keeps flinching.

They see who speaks

and who lowers their gaze.

They’re learning what courage costs,

what silence buys,

and who will bleed

for a better world they might inherit.

So speak.

Even if your voice shakes.

Even if no one claps,

or listens,

or stays.

Because silence is a currency—

and if you don’t spend your voice,

they’ll spend your future.