Canned Silence

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Stories ┈ steered ┈ by the soul ┈

What we store ┈
What we sad ┈
What we sing ┈
What we sieve ┈

┈ stories ┈ shape ┈ the soul ┈



Some of it sound.
Some of it to sounds.
Some of it strident.
Some of it silent.

┈ stories ┈ sting ┈ the soul ┈

to collect.

A sadness stored will sieve itself silently…

┈ over ┈ and over ┈ and over again ┈

Sometimes stubborn.
Sometimes stoical.
In song.
Sung silently.

Capable ┈
or crestfallen…


Canned Silence ┈ is not always capitulation.

…and when courageous…

That’s freedom.

What does freedom mean to you?


Pssst… click on the header image… 


© Dylan Balkind

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