Over the radio,
A clock is ticking underneath it all,
The rats are munching low,
Outside the wind is rustling trees and leaves,
As my chair creaks softly,
There is a faint hum from the computer,
Another train passes by quietly,
There're footfalls upstairs as people wake,
I hear myself sighing,
Hot water moves through the radiators,
I continue lying,
To my own self,
That's the loudest of all.
Until I can scream the truth of my soul,
The silence of it is unbearable.
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