What is it that I seek

If I run really fast

Why do I need to tell

If I run very far

Why is there an urge to yell

If I write a love song,

why does it need to be heard

If silence is golden

Talking seems absurd

Why is there a constant need

For approval from another

The incessant wasted worry

For words to go further

If only I can sit with myself

And be gentle and kind

There really is nothing else

For me to need or find

Nothing to be had

Nothing to be done

Nowhere to go

Nothing to become

Published by ElusiveSilence

Always wondering....

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