As The Grave

The posture of my silence is a sham
Or usually it is. I speak enough
For dozens, and I can't deny I am
Often too vocal. But it's tough
To say I speak sufficiently, or say
I speak at all where it will matter most,
For at the crisis I will most delay
And whisper 'round my thinking like a ghost
Incapable, though full of wind and air,
Of making any headway towards my goal.
And since this failure comes, I therefore dare
To claim a silence overwhelms my soul
Even when I still can speak, and write
So long as what I mean is hid from sight.