~THE UNSAID THANK YOUS~
There is an account to be made
There are debts to be paid
The price is fat; it lies in our hearts in parts
The rubies that were never sold out,
Even after it has been bought
Though as rare rocks they are sought.
Could it be the price, of the customers, that was so unreasonable?
Or the vendor's stingy scowl, way unbearable?
What is left with a man, when his heart has difficulty in utterance?
Could it be our lips that are so slow?
Or perhaps our hearts that are too cold.
We find no rest when our heads are laid to rest
For our chest are swelled with unsaid thank yous
Which burdens our hearts at night
And darkens our days at noon
It wrestles against our conscience
And misinterprets our dreams
Giving us thousands of reasons to rationalise.
---Fampah Coyish
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