Talking

Since my age is a number
too small to compare
to the ones that now slumber
with decayed old grey hair,
I will not expect
to accept more than reject
from ones that hear me
show words through my lips.

For since there’s an art
to hold voice sounds in brain,
I do not seem smart
when I talk without your say.

Pain held to peace
when thoughts replayed voice,
since words do not please
and are rejected at choice.
But now I choose to turn
my anger into silence,
so you will not feel burn
when hell erupts my violence.

So when some ask why
I choose silence over words,
It’s because no one ever remembers
things exactly as I said.

No reason to fuel a flame
that never has a spark
to start the inferno within
and blur my thoughts from sharp,
when action is not there
to show that people care
about what others say
on any given day
since views are always skew
to prove a point from false
no matter what they do
to truth; that should be boss.

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