Yesterday I spoke no words,
My little voice could not be heard.
All my thoughts were wiped clean,
The conversation quiet, in between.
With open mouth, I held my tongue,
No sentences could be strung,
Instead I was quiet, watching, gazing,
I may have been silent, but my thoughts were blazing.
How could one diffuse my passionate flame?
How could one erase my freedom again?
Where is the point of having words to spill,
If all I can ever voice means nil?
I twist my tongue, fold it, unmoving,
I hold it so tight I feel it bruising,
With tears stinging tender eyes,
My response it withers, then it dies.
So I can keep peace, so I don't scare,
I force down my passion, demolish my care,
For I am the quiet, never am I loud,
I have merely become...another face in the crowd.
