The words that once flowed from him,
With his many stories and tales.
Have all but stopped now.
His once talkative nature,
Cut down with harsh words.
No longer wishing to,
Tell his tale.
Voice meant to be spoken,
Now shunned by those,
That should have listened.
From the very beginning.
All the stories and tales.
Now dusk laid within his mind.
Never wishing to speak again.
A talkative child, turned mute.
He looks and goes to speak,
But can't bring himself to do so.
Afraid that once again,
He'll be silenced.
A sweet boy,
Now turned bitter.
A smart boy,
Now looked at as stupid.
He is none of these,
For sure he knows this.
All he wants in life,
Is to speak knowing that
Someone will listen and understand.
All his life he's been talkative.
Now within his teenage life,
He has changed to fit those of
Older, much "wiser" groups.
His talkative ways,
Now crushed with silence.
If only he'd seen the true beauty
That came from his stories and tales.
His silence has caused damage,
To those that truly loved to listen.
Muting his voice has done nothing but
Prove that he tries too hard,
Making everyone else happy.
But himself.
A talkative child no longer,
Wishing to join in on conversation.
Choosing to stay behind,
Left within his own mind.
Where his voice is heard all the while.
Though it's just him and his thoughts.
But at least there, someone listens.
