I read this poem today and thought to myself, "This fits"
The Happy Slow Thinker
by Edgar A Guest
Full many a time a thought has come
That had a bitter meaning in it.
And in the conversation's hum
I lost it ere I could begin it.
I've had it on my tongue to spring
Some poisoned quip that I thought clever;
Then something happened and the sting
Unuttered went, and died forever.
A lot of bitter thoughts I've had
To silence fellows and to flay 'em,
But next day always I've been glad
I wasn't quick enough to say 'em.
I'm that way when I get mad and want to finish and argument, but I never can find the words I want to say. But now that I think on it, I AM glad it takes me time to collect my thoughts, instead of just blurting whatever hurtful thing might come to mind.