Because I talk so much
About such nonsense things,
People forget to stop and think
Of exactly what they mean.

And the beating of my brain
Conceals secrets of my heart
That I am likely to finish,
But probably will never start.

Someone once explained to me,
That only 10% of ice burgs show,
And how big or small they are underneath,
Is something no one knows

And that that pertains to people,
So it’s not fair to judge,
Without the 90 some percentage,
That they refuse to budge.

And its not that they don’t want to listen,
It’s just; they’ve never dared,
To think that I have hidden thoughts
That I have never shared.

So remember when you look at me
And listen to my words
That I’ve other things to say and feel
That you have never heard.