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If Silence Is My Fault
If silence is all my fault
and in paper all my words hided
under my lips as a timed bomb,
an understanding unuttered.
In paper all my words scattered
behind my image the true me lies
inside my calmness a sweetness hides.
If an utterably perfect is your blessing,
with nothing more undisplayed,
your every glance with words combined,
not a silence in any presence of you,
why not the bomb in me ignite?
and these lines of phrases,
to make homour in speach?
why not learn the uniqueness of my world?
The sweet, the bitter sweet, or the soure? ? ? ?
poem
by
Marbet Daniel
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