I hold back more words a day
than I ever say.
Spout off more than my fair share
to people who don’t know me or care
just to entertain.
I go back home, open the door
and close it behind me once more.
Go to my park bench with its personalized plaque
in my sitting room and sit back
and watch the day’s passersby once again.
The moon outside is a little empty head
glowing in the dark as I go to bed
with the whole world wide web as a speech-bubble
with 7 billion mouths presumably in a bit of trouble
to get what they think heard
or get voices they hear not written off as absurd.