Scrap Poem: Silence is a Hermit

They ask, "Who are you?" 
He says,
"I'm the person
you'd least want to talk to."

They soon occupy themselves,
curious little creatures,
in scrutiny.

When they finally get to know more, 
They don't remember that
He had warned them. 

And at last he is left silent. 
Left alone with bitter feelings 
thrown toward him.

It is an irony that
While some claim silence to be golden, 
Most cannot let it be the way it is.

He is now as he was.
He is now silent,
But he is now
Hated.