Poem 296 – Conflicted Speech

Conflicted.
A time to speak and a time to be silent,
a saying that says two ears, one mouth
demands twice as much listening as talk.

My grandad joked the secret of
a happy marriage lay in two words
not three. They were ‘yes, dear’. We laughed.

This compliant child tends to silence.
Perhaps a cuckoo supplanted virtue
with the instinctive desire for an easy life.

To speak too fast can barricade,
prevent the chance of conversation,
asserting mine is the only view.

But staying silent’s a game of hide
and seek, denying the other from seeing
within and closing the door on their face.

More seriously some words are weapons
a battering ram to be raised in protest
against words designed to divide us.

So how can I tell when is it best to take
my stand or hold my hand across
my mouth to keep these thoughts within?
Conflicted.

Someone asked me today if I found it hard to share my opinions because of my job. Perhaps, but there’s also a dash of simply being quiet with an aversion for conflict.
(18.09.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Abhinav Anand on Unsplash

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