S.P.E.A.K.

Sometimes the people that speak the least have the most to say.

As I wipe my tired eyes,

I look back on my day,

I begin to realize,

I had a lot to say,

 

But I hardly ever speak,

I never say a word,

Not even a peep,

But I want my voice heard,

 

I blend in with the crowd,

I fade into the masses,

I never think out loud,

In any of my classes,

 

As I sit down with this man,

He tells me its all right

He tells me of a plan,

To help me sleep at night,

 

He pulls up my sleeve,

And notices the slashes,

Then I turn to leave,

But I can't secape the gashes,

 

I run down the street,

With no where to go,

Everything was neat,

But my mind is out of control,

 

Finally, I come to a stop,

I'm at this beautiful bridge,

I'm standing at the very top,

The river below makes me cringe,

 

Now I'm standing on the ledge,

To the railing I hung,

Then I let go of the edge,

Screaming at the top of my lungs

 

Author's Note

Honestly tell me what you think. I'm always open to constructive criticism.

Reviews

[Jessica M.]

I really like it.
You probably use less I's though.
Very easy to relate to, good write.