To The Thinker

Words are missed most when there is noise: 

The undeniable sounds of suffering-

Are like ants marching all over the head. 

The silence of the sweet hours that are slept by;

Make the recipe of an enthusiastic pie, 

And when we take the essence from this

The soul wakes up after a preposterous dream. 

So think clearly the words of peace

Or your treacherous lips may beg and scream.