And, when I speak, I speak too fast
And waste no time at all,
As if intent on getting past
Some adamantine wall.

I stumble over every word
And leave no one unclipped,
The fact of which must sound absurd
To those who aren’t quick-lipped.

And so I’m left to hold my tongue,
As if I’ve talked my fill,
Yet any people I’m among
Complain that I’m so still.

And so I go out of their way;
It’s not as if there’s much to say.

Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash

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