A Voice for the Voiceless

He doesn’t have a collar.
He doesn’t have a voice you understand.
But he feels everything—loneliness, hunger, fear, and hope.

Every day, he walks the same path, passing hundreds of faces that don’t stop, don’t see, don’t care.
To some, he’s just “a stray.”
To us, he’s a soul that has weathered storms in silence, waiting not to be owned—but to be understood.

He isn’t looking for property rights or pity—just a moment of kindness, a chance to be something more than forgotten.
Not a pet. Not a possession. Just a living being who deserves dignity, warmth, and belonging.

We call him “voiceless,” but he speaks through his eyes—pleading, patient, powerful.
His silence is not weakness—it’s survival.
His stillness is not apathy—it’s exhaustion.

So let us be what he cannot:
Let us speak. Let us fight. Let us lift his story.

Because being voiceless should never mean being invisible.
And love should never require ownership—only recognition of worth.