My pen spills forth words, strong and bold,
But my tongue seeks solace in silence, cold.
Read my words and you might perceive
A person brave, expressive, and empathetic, not me.
For I am but a coward, hiding in fear,
Behind the words that I write, year after year.
My language mask presents a bold veneer,
But inside I'm trembling, my courage unclear.
Yet now I know it's time to let go
Of this mask, this veil that shields me from reality's flow.
I'll discard my pen and the words it gave,
And find my voice, no longer a slave.
-
Author:
Rohan Regi (
Offline) - Published: July 16th, 2023 08:29
- Comment from author about the poem: I used to speak things to people around me. But once I started writing these poems, Now I have started to prefer an existence in pen and paper. The reality I belonged to is fading slowly. So it's time to take a break.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
Go for it!
Thank you for the support
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.