Words float
Through my head
Though they do not escape,
If I were to give them my voice
I'd be hanging
By the neck.
You pollute the room
With absent minded words,
Yet you expect an audience
To applaud
The things you spew.
Behind my back
Speaking words of wisdom,
Noone likes a prophet
Who can't open his mind,
Before his mouth.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
Words float
Through my head
Though they do not escape,
If I were to give them my voice
I'd be hanging
By the neck.
You pollute the room
With absent minded words,
Yet you expect an audience
To applaud
The things you spew.
Behind my back
Speaking words of wisdom,
Noone likes a prophet
Who can't open his mind,
Before his mouth.
