I don’t speak much.

I don’t chatter with classmates about boys and hair.

I don’t wax poetically about life and its delights.

I don’t grunt with anger or whine in distress

To random strangers who care nothing less.

 

I am the quiet one sitting by the edge.

Balanced on the ever delicate ledge.

When thoughts touch my mind

Like a child’s poking hands,

I hold it with care

In soft gentle hands.

 

I don’t squeeze it or punch it,

Demanding answers not there.

I ask it politely

For what it has to share.

 

I explore all its facets,

All the turns it can take,

And draw up an answer

From that which I make.

 

But when I attempt to share

All the thoughts I have heard,

The time has passed to speak

And someone else steals my turn.

 

Everyone has important thoughts.

Everyone has something to share.

So why don’t you just take a break

And let us take to the air.

 

The Gibber-jabbers and Chatty Mocks,

The Oh-Yes men and Sentence Locks,

Let the Quiets say their words.

It doesn’t hurt to just once learn

 

The thoughts all the Quiets think

But are missed because they’re without speech.

So when another opens up

To share themselves with you,

 

Don’t stop them in their tracks.

Let them speak their thoughts too.