Insufferable
By: Prophet Dressed Like a Poet
Some people suffer
They’re called rude.
The words they speak are sometimes crude.
But not as much as the words unspoken
Beware! That silence is not meant to be broken
Words aren’t the same once they’re inside your head.
They twist with regret and what could’ve been said.
Silence
Some people suffer
They’re called odd
They’re obsessed with magic wands and Greek gods.
Dreaming of their own fictional lands
With the pages they turn under their hands
Happiness they hide behind
like a mask.
But look away, and you’ll see it crack.
Silence
Some people suffer
They’re called by their names.
It seems they have a constant quest for fame.
They are many things by day.
But when you’re away
They take out their pens
And stare at their words until who knows when
There is pain in every page
But this is our only stage,
Let go of the words.
No more
Silence.
Some people suffer.
They’re called writers.