The Unspoken Symphony

The melody lingers, yet silent within,

A symphony woven where words cannot spin.

To bare your heart, a yearning so keen,

Yet the listener's ears hold a different scene.

Do they know it all, etched in their knowing gaze?

Or is silence a shield, a safer maze?

Fearing the echoes your truth might impart,

A disruption to their own well-guarded heart.

"Perhaps they don't care," a whisper within,

And the truth hangs heavy, a sorrowful din.

Their world, an echo chamber, self-absorbed sound,

No space for another's symphony profound.

But silence screams louder than words ever could,

Building walls where bridges once stood.

The unspoken yearns, a lonely refrain,

Distancing the one who longs to sustain.

So break free, dear heart, from the shackles of mute,

Let your music rise, unafraid of refute.

For even unheard, it holds its own grace,

And in its resonance, finds its rightful space.