Upon The Silent, Lonely Hill
Many sleepless nights I spent
Upon the silent, lonely hill.
An invitation for others to join,
But I was the only one who went.
Silence is golden,
Especially in a crowd.
But having no one to share the silence with,
Cannot possibly make a man proud.
Silence among the trees,
Silence among the lakes.
And only by distraction silence breaks.
But overall,
Silence is desolate.
And bitter to the end.
poem by Preston Simmons
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