Why is it that I anger so
When from my lips this filth once flowed
Why do I sit and burn with scorn
When both my ears have been so worn
So should I speak or should I not
Could I plead though all for naught
Would I dare let leave my lungs
The breath that lifts my foolish tongue
No, I can't. I mustn't. I won't this time
I've seen this plenty pantomimed
Remain in silence just once more
I must. I can. I will, I'm sure.
For God has warned of things like this
Things that seem they are amiss
And what I must and mustn't do
When things around me are askew
So take this burden firm, shall I
And at my master's feet I'll lie
The load that bears upon my heart
And from my soul this all will part
Copyright © 2013 Ryan Bitters. All Rights Reserved.
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