You mumble when you speak,
but I think it is a cryptic pattern.
I'm to catch every word or so,
weaving them together like a puzzle.
Sewing the seams of a patchwork quilt,
until it is a thing of wonder, of beauty.
I overlook your methods, I choose to deny,
the mumble drowns out the other words.
I hear nothing...nothing but your mumble.
You mumble when you speak....
I'm not really sure if it's insecurity or an effort to sound intelligent. Perhaps the blanks the mumbler would like us to fill in are words he cannot conjure, or is at a loss for...?
