Muffled

When he was young
he had so much to say
then life lashed his tongue
in it’s sobering way
until the cord began to fray

releasing his thought
from the numbing routine
whose fibers are fraught
with fragments of spleen
he lost to the machine

so all he can speak
is the jargon of fear
and his sentiments squeak
like the whiniest gear
that people seldom choose to hear.