My Word!... Empty Barrels

This is my most recently completed poem (new shyt!) and is the second piece I wrote as a follow up to "Speak". One incident in particular served as the main inspiration for this poem. One of my professors heard me perform "Speak" for a debate team we were hosting. He was surprised, to say the least, and made it known that I hardly ever spoke in (his) class. A friend, who also heard me then for the first time, shared a similar sentiment. I'm usually very low-key, not to be confused with anti-social but I choose carefully when, where, and with whom I am more vocal. This is my response...

Empty Barrels

People always used to say I was not like most boys...
Growing up I was a shy kinda guy
Quite quietly reserved to myself
Ask me why and I'll tell you...
Because empty barrels make the most noise
Most toys don't make you much smarter
So I play with words
Because it is much harder to win
And I like the challenge
Of getting my barrel almost full to the brim
So if you want to describe him as quiet, think twice
Cuz his words are strong enough to incite riots
But... but I just don't want to start one
Smart ones know that those who have the least to say
They talk the most
And those who talk the least, when they speak
You should listen close
So it's not ironic that I'm not quite sonic
Unless I see a stage with a mic on it
Or if there is something to address
That is when I feel like my tongue cannot rest
None the less, all the more
When I was in form four
I used to speak on behalf
Of the boys in the class that were labeled delinquents
Cuz they were relinquent to the taunts from my teacher, unjust
Trust that "class lawyer" was the title she gave me
Still speaking, but now they know me as Navy
And to me there's a difference between
Speaking and talking
Just like creeping and walking
One takes less courage
The next, should be encouraged some more
Therefore... the next time you take the floor
Make sure that your words are the opposite of poor
Cuz my tongue is raw
So don't make me draw my lyrical pistol
And have you running to the door
I'm not above the law, at all, at all
But I would Empty Barrels on all of y'all
Make you fall from your poise
So call all your boys
And tell them what I said about making old noise

By: Yvan 'Navy' Mendoza