Poem: The Better Side of Silence

[jakebe]

This is a rough draft.
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The Better Side of Silence

He did not know how long he could on to this.
The piece of sweaty paper in his hand,
the ideals of speech and conversation,
the belief that relationships tasted better
peppered with a little small talk to taste.
He had grown up believing that purity was a terrible thing,
and everything had to be diluted, shared, mixed in
and his voice, above all, should be contributed
because one note in the silence is empty, and dull,
and too close to pure for the palate of most diverse indulgences.
Out of curiosity, he tried it once; he shut his mouth,
and now, in the other end of his old age,
he couldn't ever imagine opening it again.