𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 ,
𝒉𝑢𝑠𝒉𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤 ,
𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠,
𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝒉𝑒𝑦'𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑙𝑑,
𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠,
𝑎𝑐𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑖𝑔𝒉𝑡,
𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤 ,
𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝒉𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑐𝑒,
𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑐𝒉𝑒𝑠,
𝑤𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑠,
𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑦,
𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝒉𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠,
𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝒉𝑖𝑡𝑒 ,
𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝒉 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒,
𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑤𝒉𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑐𝒉𝑒𝑠,
𝑖𝑛 𝒉𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑤𝒉𝑒𝑟𝑒,
𝐴 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 ,
𝑤𝒉𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑔𝒉𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 ,
𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑖𝑔𝒉𝑡,𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑡𝒉 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 ,
𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠,𝑖𝑓 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑖𝑔𝒉𝑡 ,
𝒉𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑖𝑔𝒉𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒 ,
𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑡𝒉 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑐𝒉𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝒉𝑖𝑡𝑒 .
-𝑠𝑠
JE LEEST
Unsaid
PoëzieIt was painfully worded , And beautifully read , The things that were written, Were those never said.
