Silence Speaks the Word

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Silence Speaks the Word

Sometimes a flower shrivels in the dust. Alone and unloved. Unheard because it has no throat. I feel abandoned by the ears of the world. Uninteresting to those whom profess to care. Why should I speak, when my words are hopeless? Why should I yearn to be heard when I shall be judged? Never have I known such masochistic yearning as to be able to say my piece.
Have you ever found yourself being called Uninteresting? I tire of anger being thrown at me like a bucket filled with hot coals just because I have the words. I had them, yes. But now they are fleeting, wilting under the summer sun of scornful disapproval. Will they live? Doubtful.

I think people will assume someone is uninteresting if they don't speak their opinion often. That's an unfortunate assumption because sometimes taking the time to get to know a quiet person will reveal great treasures.