“Busy Signal”

When a child calls for help
The cord is meant to carry voices
Relaying stories and choices

Traveling in quiet certainty
That someone will hear them
Offering more than empty amens

Yet watch this child’s face
As they learn
A cord can twist

Can wind tightly
Coiling itself
Around a throat

A swallowed cry
Widening eyes
And muted notes

Nothing remains
But an electric hum
And a blaring busy signal