Sometimes, That TOUCH heals all the wounds… And soothes the soul That LOOK has all my answers… And the sorrows disappear That SOUND calms me down… And only heartbeats are heard Words are forgotten, And only the language of SILENCE is spoken! Power of it…

Poem 3 In this empty house that I call home I am often unaccompanied but never alone, for these walls have helped raise me and console me in sorrow. How could I feel alone when there’s no loneliness here? -h.e.m.