5.

i do compare myself,

to the weather hard to ascertain

I pour a little light and cries alot inside

I might smile a little less but

the happiness I felt won't accounts it

I love to live, but the same time

I lost the life to live

I won't utter a word but

within I hoarded a verse to sing upon.

seldom happens I do want to speak

scribble my heart out and

spread my words like bloating inks,

but I do stammer and stutter,

and the rest is the same

just the whisper of an introvert.