Unbeknownst to them,
Who speak with words of folly
I writhe and employ strength
Where they often squally
I struggle and I break,
Quiet and alone
As I do suffer for my sake;
Oh, how I do bemoan
They shall observe, surely stern
With not same, but similar, eyes
That quite mock, and quite discern
My sadness from their like
Frustration abound, lamps none alight
I cannot speak, but listen; and write
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC