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Silent


I sit in the corner, not speaking

But listening to every little sound

That can be heard. People think 

I’m mute, that I don’t know what’s

Going on, but I do. I know how 

To do the things, that people accuse 

Me. I choose to listen, so people think 

I can’t talk. But I’m always there.  When

Will I talk? People will never know.

 
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