Empty Throats

Speaking is all I know how

to do.

I can weave my words as

beautifully as a swan dancing

on semi-frozen waters with

a lovely piano piece playing

in the background.

I know how to sing a

song of love so grand

the world sings along

with me and falls for

my sweet lyrics.

I try my song on you,

but I can’t produce a

sound in front of you.

I reach deep into my

throat and try to remove

what’s blocking my song

with nothing coming out.

What about you prevents

me from uttering a sound?

I try and try but

I can’t win.

I want you to hear my

song.

The song is one I

made just for you.

It took me so long

to come up with the

perfect song

that by the time

I came up with the

best composition,

you left.

Now the only sound I can make

is that of crying.