Talk

When I look at the walls of silence,
I see a room full of emptiness,

Some things were meant to be conveyed,
But the thoughts in my mind they, stayed,

It is not the urge to speak,
But the fear of being forever quiet, is too quite steep,

To listen to someone is more important,
Understand the reason as to why we were not meant,

Being silent should never be confused with numbness,
One cannot be mute about the course of nature and its correctness,

Mad people often talk to themselves,
But then normal people never make big to the success shelves,

My mind it talks to itself, full of thoughts,
No words and no regrets.