sitting still
quiet
it seems
but with quivers
they can’t see
deep inside
calling me
I’m never this quiet
a storm’s brewing
grabbing with both hands
a chance to speak
all that’s left
from decades
of stifled intent
some words will be ethereal
and some will really bruise
but it’s all coming out
it’s all coming soon
Your message has been sent
The Word Rummager 
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