Speak, they tell me.

Unleash your thoughts like the rabid dogs they are.

And yet, I don't.

I beg release from their query.

The words caged up like birds from afar.

Speak? I won't.

If others knew, they would condemn

Even in this age of 'acceptance'

Actions and words are things for which they will always castigate me.

Feelings, emotions are a leeches heaven.

They beg for me to speak, so that they may feed on my cadence.

I refuse to give them the sustenance or let them aggravate me.

And so, I keep quiet.

My confidants are few.

They are the simply the other residences of my mind.

My mouth is silent.

Words evaporate before others like early morning dew.

Trustworthy people are impossible to find.