My ears hurt hearing you speak.
You, hearing not my mental screams,
Are overly engrossed in weaving
Your words laden with lame sarcasm.
Between me and you that's the chasm.
While you act as the witty,
I play out the dumb-wit.
I hide my irk behind my dumb facade
As if I can grasp not your sarcasm,
Replying with all straight answers,
Fearing I might give a hurtful reply,
Strike back with unforgivable curses,
While you have a laugh at my dumbness.
Once euphemism becomes my style,
You'll get to know who I really am.