Quiet

Somehow, today, there’s a tear in my eye,

And whatever I do, it just refuses to dry.

I feel some sadness, distant, in my heart,

With which, I cant find the will, to part.

Some are ‘great’, some, ‘know-all’,

‘wise’ But me, a ‘fool’ maybe?

Will that suffice?

Parts of me die,

inch-by-inch,

bit-by-bit,

I am, tired perhaps, of humour and wit?

I have nothing left to say,

no words at all,

To listen or not?

You’ve to make that call.

Quietly, they say,

silence speaks volumes,

While I wait, for peace.

So close, it looms.

By Casablanca