It's excruciating to know,
If you swallow your words,
Though you're right,
But still there's a cost.
I want to mark up,
Those words I regurgitate,
But am afraid,
For somebody wants to entrap me;
I was in danger.
My heart bleeds,
For I was trapped,
Though I want to fight,
But I'm weak.
I want to scream up!
But they threatened me up,
It seems I am a slave;
I don't have freedom.
What shall I do?
Do I remain silence?
Shall I devour my words?
Or do the right thing? |
