Quiet

My life is a series of survival techniques,
Strung along on friendly smiles.
I have found that
         If you hold a countenance that
Bleeds demure,
     You avoid
       Misunderstanding
When you are engulfed in the background
And pick yourself out
When spoken to,
        You can be sure no one
Mistakes you for a target,
When you speak,
Be sure to keep it scribbled on the wall
Poignant and sweet
      Keep your eyes neutral
And don't let a fire burn so intense that it cremates
The teeth you keep clenched
Let it smolder, and keep it in the back of your
     Throat
Afterall,
It will only be heard by you.