The Closed Book
I don’t say much, I never did
there’s strength in knowing what to rid
Let others talk and bare their soul
I keep my hand, I play it whole
They fish for thoughts, I give them none
just nod and watch the tale they spun
I’ve learned to smile, I’ve learned to stall
no point in showing cards at all
You want the truth? Then wait your turn
some things you ask, you wouldn’t learn
I’ve seen what happens when words roam
so I keep mine and bring them home
Not cold, not cruel, just built this way
some games are won by what you don’t say
Let others bleed to prove they care
I hold my peace and leave it there
I’ve got my ways, I’ve made my path
don’t need applause, don’t need your wrath
A closed book’s quiet, tight and neat
no mess to clean, no hearts to beat
And if you guess, then let you guess
I’ll shrug it off and leave the mess
Say nowt, mean more — that’s how I live
I take far less than what I give
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❤️
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Comments (2)
A really nice trilogy of thoughts on those that speak and those that don't and then it all comes together in your last poem. I liked it Marie, well done and nicely thought out.
true.. less is more ..