All-day sitting on the same old corner,
Unheard, neglected, and taken for granted,
Maybe speaking what was on my head,
Could make you glance at me one sooner.

I cracked a joke hoping to see you laugh,
But you just cringed without glancing at me,
I reckoned humor was not my forte,
I should've not opened my mouth for that bluff.

I spoke of good mem'ries and promises,
But you brushed it off like it's a thing to avoid,
A fleeting scene that was not enjoyed.
And I was left with only misery to caress.

Wasn't speaking the best way of expression?
Weren't my tears a hint of my desperation?
If words were not enough to voice out my depression,
Then can silence be the best option?

So back in my same old corner alone,
Still neglected and taken for granted,
I realized that saying what's on my head,
Was a futile way to get your attention.

Under the veil of my newfound silence
May your old oath with the judge resonates
A spurious word sealed with a ring
But all it brought was suffering.