Pins patter across the floor
To the beat of stifled hearts
The scrape of metal on plates
Over a pea soup haze
Of perishing pipe dreams
Plates are full
Starving souls grumble
As sun stretches in vain
To reach darkened table
Four sets of blue eyes
Pale and gazing elsewhere
Wandering minds waiting
For something
Anything
To speak
These walls know
The pain of silence
We have all heard the phrase, “If these walls could talk”. Today, I would like you to do just that by giving walls a voice through your poetry. Join in with us over at dVerse where I will be your host for today’s Poetics. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.
Image credit: pixabay.com
mishunderstood 
Excellent poem! These walls know the pain of silence…wow. Killer last line. Thank you for this wonderful prompt.
Thank you, Toni…much appreciated. 🙂
Somehow in a certain type of silence the small noise of cutlery or just the spoon in a teacup is painfully loud… great sentiment of pain here.
It really is…every tiny sound can be deafening in this situation.
Silence, meditation–can be spiritually enriching, but taciturn non-communication can be sad, even deadly. Your wall would rarely smile, gathering grayness into itself, darkness, and silence not cherished or solicited. I like your alliteration in the lines /over a pea soup haze/ of perishing pipe dreams/.
“gathering grayness into itself”…love that
Thank you, Glenn.
This is beautifully emotive, Michelle ❤️ I can sense the emotion in; “Pins patter across the floor to the beat of stifled hearts” and oh “The scrape of metal on plates over a pea soup haze of perishing pipe dreams”.. sigh.. unforgettable write.
Lots of love,
Sanaa
Thank you, Sanaa. 🙂
I know this. I remember as a much younger thing, viewing couples drowning in silence, hoping upon hope me and hubs would never reach this stage. Luckily we never have.
Excellent write.
Anna :o]
Thanks, Anna. It can be a debilitating experience for all involved.
“Plates are full/Starving souls grumble”. Wow! Powerful words!
I appreciate your comment, Bryan. Thank you. 🙂
Your poem conveys the painful silence of not knowing what to say so effectively, Mish. I can hear the silence in the small noises that are amplified through the sound effects you have created through alliteration and other techniques:’Pins patter across the floor’and ‘The scrape of metal on plates’. I especially love the lines: ‘Starving souls grumble’ and ‘Wandering minds waiting’. When I was a teenager, I had a fear of eating with other people and still only enjoy meals with people I know really well. The situation in your poem would be a nightmare for me.
Family dinnertime, how I loathed thee. Personally this is the most chilling poem in the entire prompt.
Oooohhhh…I was not expecting that gut wrenching ending especially as I was recalling the pea soup of my childhood. Excellent!
Heard pins drop here…the walls/floor revealed the mood. Yes, sometimes there’s plenty of good food but conversation is painfully scant. Need windows too, I think!
“The pain of silence” What a beautiful line – and unfortunately becoming true in households these days.
Boredom perhaps did not trigger off any kind of conversation or laughter among them. What a life!
Hank
This feels so real. The walls were listening closely.
Been there… you describe it well.