I had a thought not so long ago, the thought inside my head
No one else can hear the thought unless I speak instead
The problem is, and sometimes was, spoken words are said
They pop on out and fill the air, like magic, a word thread

And, if the thought is not so kind, spoken is not the way
For I would think that spoken words can surely make me pay
I doubt that thoughts, unkind thoughts, really want to stay
So, I close my mouth and my eyes to communicate with Frey

Then, of course, my mouth doth choose to override my brain
It isn’t what I want to say, but it takes off like a train
As my words head down the track, causing much disdain
I grab a glass of water, to wash away the pain

It isn’t what I meant to say or say it to be mean
My brain works faster than it should, a little like caffeine
I have to work on slowing down, the words I need to screen
Forgive me, please, it could be worse, not funny but obscene

I’m probably not so different, but sometimes I feel I am
Different can be good, especially for making jam
Unlike tasty eating, different speaking may even slam
Maybe I just need to isolate, into a far-off ashram

I might learn what is normal, for a whacky brain like mine
Do I fit into a crowd, or let the sun just shine?
Not sure I could do it, for to think is my assign
Guess I’ll relax and think about it, with a glass of wine