It’s in the daily inns and outs, The revolving door of unfiltered doubts.

will my silence ever pack a punch ?

paramount too the loudness of the ins and out?

Will it hit them in the gut, will it be seen or felt. there is no burden in the cards I’ve been dealt.

But yet these questions I ask myself everyday.

The theme of the sacrifice seems to be a heavy price to pay.

Doing the intangible work.