I don’t speak much
not because I have nothing to say,
but because this world rarely listens
to silence that doesn't scream.
I sit with shadows,
not out of fear
but because they don't expect me
to shine when I’m tired.
People pass like passing clouds
all noise, all rush,
while I stay rooted in storms
they’ll never notice.
I write my thoughts in margins,
not in conversations.
My world is not loud,
but it’s vast
quiet galaxies where I feel everything.
They call it lonely,
but I call it breathing.
Not everyone needs a crowd
to feel alive.
Offline)
Comments4
Be more optimistic dev ! You see sometime you have something to say !
So much sadness in this poem ( ..
I got a sense of someone finding some comfort in them being alone, nicely expressed and written
Thank you
You are very welcome
I hear you Dev I too prefer quiet most of the time. If I want a little noise I put on music or go listen to the birds they are much more accomodating and seem to listen to what I say too. Well written my friend
Thank you, I will try whatever you said.
My pleasure
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.