Silence of silence

I made a sketch of these women whose eyes are downward. They are trying to lift their eyes to face the world but they are unable to do so.
They want to Iive. They want to be happy. They want to be loved. They want to be appreciated. But all they get is a glance of pity and sympathy.. Or not even that?!

"I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,
Rotting flesh and worms do
Not convince me against
The challenge. The years
And cold defeat live deep in
Lines along my face.
They dull my eyes, yet
I keep on dying,
Because I love to live."

Maya Angelou