Is Silence Gold?

I cannot write, for words escape
And though I think, I cannot shape
What my thought are, nor can express
This lack which burns me with distress.

I write, but know not what I say
For sense and meaning flee away
When I open my mental cage
And try to whisper to the page.

Where are you words? Why do you flee?
Why am I now your enemy?
Has someone cursed me? Am I bane
To all that speaks of what is sane?

Perhaps, but words can serve the fool
And lend themselves as madness’ tool.
So why can I not wield as well
Nor speak the thoughts I wish to tell?

Return, forgotten words and aid
My strangled thoughts, or else betrayed
My muse’s vengeance will unfold
And tell world “Silence is gold.”