If all that we say
In a single day,
With never a word left out, Were printed each night
In clear black and white
T’would make [strange] reading no doubt. And then just suppose
Ere one’s eyes he could close
He must read the day’s record through; Then wouldn’t one sigh,
And wouldn’t he try
A great deal less talking to do? And I more than half think
That many a kink
Would be smoothed in life’s tangled thread
If one-half that we say
In a single day
Were just left forever unsaid.
(Author Unknown)
dennisleatherman 