How easy it is to pluck out
Words from meaning, like flowers off a creeper
In clear ringing tones, I can hear
To the half heartedness, almost a stubborn reluctance
In voices simmering over low flames, barely a bubble on the surface. The cowardice!
Even in voices as sweet as slumber, this avarice
Burns a hole through my heart and leaves it festering forever
Its maddening, the noise ,when you say something you don’t mean
It’s like I am looking at a wall, trying to see my reflection.
You are not a stranger, no one is, We all have seen
People coming into this world, dying and in the midst of this,
Why can’t you hear your own heart being put to shame to speak
Words that are lighter than the air you breathe.