Talk to the Hand
Talk to the hand, my ears are closed,
No need for chatter, no tales exposed.
Your noise is static, a passing sound,
I’ve found my peace; it’s where I’m bound.
The world’s too loud, it never slows,
But I’ve learned to pause, to let it go.
No arguments, no battles to fight,
Just quiet waters, calm and light.
Talk to the hand, let the echoes fade,
This calm is the choice I’ve made.
Not every voice deserves my ear,
I choose the whispers I hold dear.
So speak if you must, but understand—
Your words stop here; talk to the hand.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
Keep reading
More stories from Marie381Uk and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (1)
This seemed to happen to me a lot a long time ago. It always seemed when I added to conversations no one listened, or they put up one finger suggested wait a minute, but never coming back to me for the subject had changed. I always said Oh well maybe next time. Good job.