It is not really
an end
at all.
It is a
transition.
As often as words
may be spoken
an equal number
of times I abstain
from uttering them.
I value silence
so that my mind
may run.
So many voices
all speaking,
words tumbling out
like a child
throwing
building blocks
all over the room,
tossed so carelessly.
I can only grasp
my silence
tighter
not wishing to be
part of such children.
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