Words From My heart

The whispers that cry from deep within,
Could be an echo from what was then,
And the sound is smaller then a length of a pin,
When compared to the dawn,
Of a new nation.

We fail to hear that little voice,
But once it speaks;
We muffled its voice,
Till none it’s heard ever again as so it seems.

The voice may be worried,
When something have happened;
But we when troubled,
Us will be comforted.

This I can’t hide,
So that all may see;
That the inner voice,
Is there for us all through time.

Before anything happens,
Give the little voice speaks;
Before we take chances,
Into our hands;
With a choice of multiple pennies,
May cost our lives.