Unspoken (Namaz Anail)

Sometimes we think of many things, but when it is time to voice it out, we were left tongue-tied.


Stuck, they were,
On the tips of my tongue,
A thousand words,
A hundred sentences.

So many to cry,
So desperate to utter,
Yet so reluctant,
To make it real.

How I thrashed,
Wailed and bellowed,
Parallel the silence,
Of what remains unspoken.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed