I'm considering not speaking.
For it's always hurting you.
I say the wrong stuff
or I say not enough,
And I do not know what to do.
You'd be happier
And my speech shall be still.
I'll continue this way,
starting today,
until I fall deathly ill.
My sarcastic tone won't wound you,
And my replies of 'OK' won't be around.
'I'm sorry's diminished,
my voice is finished,
I'll no longer make a sound
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