in

Muted eloquence

It’s the way with my species.

Their bad habit- to confine

And leave the most pertinent words,

Invisible in between the lines.

.

And fill all the silences

With crowded, convoluted thoughts,

Stuffed in unyielding boxes,

Expecting them to be caught.

.

For words, they are too definite,

Even bordering on crude.

And too many things,

Are just meant to be understood.

.

No matter the alienation

For lack of plain speech.

The power to reach out

Shall stay out of their reach.

.

It’s the way with my species,

Looking for impossible telepathy,

While needlessly questioning,

Can you hear me?

.

Β©Sai.

Pic credit: Mika Baumeister (unsplash.com) 

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Written by Sai

When thoughts began to rhyme,
And lines found a heartbeat,
I transformed from a dentist to a poet.

Obliterated

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