The passive bug is out to get me
I want to speak my mind still yet
The bug it won’t permit me
I know the thing to say is right
It wrestled with me in the night
Why is my tongue tied up to say
The things in which I am afraid
Mysterious moth upon my lips
Lift your wings show me the gift
If words indeed need to be said
Part my mouth relieve my head
My teeth can feel no sound relief
If not to say what’s in the heart
For where the words will hide and twist
They must be clear to pass my lips
And once is said what needs
Spring forth my head then also
Rest returns to bed for me to sleep
I cannot keep the mystery
Entirety foreshadowing what
Still my heart yearns yet to speak
© GÄ
Poétique 