Things Left Unsaid

An extended metaphor poem

Poetry is what can’t be said,

Something unspoken and noiseless,

Silent, reserved; but loudly

Understood in the written form

by an implicit set of lines.

 

The words have taken over the vocal cords,

Now muted in a hush-hush tone

While flowing words explicit your twisted, tangled, thoughts

 

A quiet tongue replaced by clamorous words

Where things are left unsaid �"

The broken down words drawn from the tongue

Speechless, but allusive

Demonstrative and meaningful.

 

The words that can’t be said,

Have been written down instead

Poetry is what can’t be said

The shyness of an individual’s renditions

Poetry is what can’t be said.

Reviews

[Death Stalker]

Very true, and very good :) I like this and this made me smile, which is rare!