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The silence of my quill
I write because my voice cannot be heard,
Though words may fly from my pen, they fail my tongue,
For speech betrays the truth I have not stirred,
And thus my thoughts are carried, bound and young.
The pages is where my heart may speak at last,
Untouched by...
Though words may fly from my pen, they fail my tongue,
For speech betrays the truth I have not stirred,
And thus my thoughts are carried, bound and young.
The pages is where my heart may speak at last,
Untouched by...
