My voice won’t tell.

In the depths of my mind, I find no reprieve,
Silencing thoughts that won’t grant me leave.
Music and movies, they dance in the night,
A symphony of noise, an attempt at flight.

Do I quell the whispers that echo within?
Or merely drown them in stories, a screen’s soft din?
I profess my love for tales spun in art,
But is it a façade, a shield for my heart?

I consume random content, a chaotic buffet,
To shroud the voice that begs to have its say.
A cacophony of tales, a shield to contrive,
From the truth within, the secrets I strive.

Humor’s my refuge in times of despair,
A veil of laughter, to hide what’s laid bare.
I jest and I jest, with a comic display,
To cloak the voice that longs to convey.

Am I truly funny, or merely a guise?
In the quest for escape, my laughter complies.
I listen to others, their stories, their dreams,
But when it’s my turn, I unravel at the seams.

A mystery I am, to myself, it appears,
A whispering soul, drowned in laughter and tears.
I seek refuge in stories, humor my shield,
But beneath it all, a voice concealed.

Why do I silence the words from within,
With laughter and stories, a deceptive spin?
The enigma of self, a puzzle I dwell,
In a world of noise, where my voice won’t tell.