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Proud said they but not me that love saying proudly
Oh, thee want to distinguish my hood if I did proudly
Oh ya, how could I not be imperfect, oh, look at my ears
They are not as well-hearing, but they dim any sound
Once Dumb and Mute had given to me but I took it not
I declared it to some that said Mute, my voice is not mute
As well as I would break down Dumb with you to define
I can shout or scream with my voice even if they are not for you to hear
I can voice that misunderstands ye, or I can gibberish
I can learn and speak it properly and then you say that my accent is
Well, I can say what I can if I am to with the confidence
Proud said they but not me that love saying proudly
Oh, thee want to distinguish my hood if I did proudly
Oh ya, they did sayth, thou art show-off or thee think ye are clever
And also did they sayth, thou never stop talking back, give it rests
I did not talk back because I wanted to be pride
I did talk because the mind kept giving me other words to sign
They were a need to shut up the words that were not in good
I can tell myself what I need to think
And also can I tell myself to think twice
The words could think of me a billion times
Various words could prepare for me to stand the photosynthesis
And other various words could sing for me to misunderstand
Until one day I would come to a sense that sayth
Write to them as the books and then shall I sail ye to more
Riddle, paradox, outside the box, and I know them not
For they remain secrets that stores in my soul waiting for me
©️ Ismael Mansoor
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