Smoky tendrils waft out now and then,
shards of discomfort,
fragments of rage.
Yet for now I maintain my peaceful facade:
the optimist, thinker,
the dreamer.
The musician, listener,
the leader.
But I do wonder what will become of the blaze of words I don't say.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Smoky tendrils waft out now and then,
shards of discomfort,
fragments of rage.
Yet for now I maintain my peaceful facade:
the optimist, thinker,
the dreamer.
The musician, listener,
the leader.
But I do wonder what will become of the blaze of words I don't say.