A Sunday scribble for Miranda Hawley's 'Pick a sentence' poetry contest.
The chosen phrase:
Photograph by Henriett Butler
There's an irony in speech, people only hear what harmonises with their ears. Just like silence after music, with no ovation nor applause, we pause our symphonic chorus, as its repetitive nature is ignored. We bury our fragility in a shallow grave, hoping no one will discover our porcelain soul, but wait for the right person to dig a little deeper. Will your truth be found in this unmarked tomb? Revealing vulnerability can lead to judgement, so in your misunderstood state of mind, I understand why your tongue is mute. Place your vigilant veil carefully, but smile... Be weary of those who attempt to break your barriers - not everyone will care to serenade with your melody.
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