< 1 min read

How prolific I am

In thoughts,

I wish I were

So much in language

And words.

My voice is deep

Rusty inside the cave

Of my own mouth.

I jab myself


And they are used for others.

Yes, they hurt.

I can’t read my

Thoughts loud,

I simply write it down.

As thoughts and ideas

Are dangerous,

You don’t read them aloud,

You can’t make a sound.

I wish I could speak up,

Even those delirious thoughts.

But I am crippled by

Norms of the world.

I trap them in poems

Locked them with codes to decipher.

We use words for meaning,

Yet we are all searching for answers,

In new words of a poet Anon.

While Life adds on,

And words add on.

Your thoughts?