They call it strange—this habit of speaking aloud, to oneself, thinking alone, and questioning everything. But science has spoken: those who talk to themselves sharpen their minds, embrace chaos, and thrive on challenge. This poem is a tribute to the self-speakers, the deep thinkers, the quiet geniuses who refuse to silence their brilliance.
 

They point, they whisper, they call it absurd—
Yet minds that murmur are minds that are heard.
Not lost in confusion, not drifting astray,
But shaping ideas in a clearer array.

Alone is a comfort, not something to fear,
For brilliance needs space when the world is unclear.
Crowds are a clutter, too noisy, too tight,
A mind finds its power alone in the night.

A thought spoken softly, a name said aloud,
A phrase that brings order, untangling the cloud.
Scientists have shown it—this practice is keen,
It sharpens perception, keeps thinking pristine.

A desk piled high, a room in a mess,
Yet chaos breeds insight, as studies confess.
Scientists have revealed what few comprehend—
That clutter can fuel how great ideas extend.

Doubt is the marker of those who excel,
While fools stand so certain, the wise know too well.
Scientists confirmed it—self-critique is the key,
To learning, improving, to true mastery.

And those who seek hurdles, who strive to ascend,
Who reach for the challenge, refusing to bend,
Are those who will flourish, push further, succeed,
Their minds always hungry, their will in the lead.

So speak if you must, if your thoughts need a voice,
If words shape your thinking, then let them rejoice.
For wisdom speaks freely, unbound and untamed—
And those who converse with themselves are not shamed.