My mind rambles with many thoughts,

So loud! So soft. All written down as dots.

The problems present. The things I say.

These words have never heard the light of day,

So quiet that they sound like banging pots

How loud they sound, similar to gun shots.

But within me they stay, unbuilt house plots.

When spoken aloud a slap is the pay,

As a youth words shouted are never heard.

Our words treated like those of tots,

Merely passed by like cars in parking lots.

Let them believe whatever they may,

Soon those locked up shouts will have their day.

For now let them speak as their ideal rots,

As a youth words shouted are never heard.