The poem
Sometimes I practise random acts of grace,
like keeping my mouth shut straight to your face.
Because what I am thinking is honest and strong,
but socially speaking, spectacularly wrong.
You'll say something stupid, I'll blink very slow,
while fifteen responses are ready to go.
One could ruin your morning, another your week,
but kindness reminds me I don't have to speak.
So I smile like a woman with manners and class,
while mentally launching your bullshit to Mars.
You think I've agreed because nothing was said-
no, darling, I'm saving us both from my head.
Never mistake silence for having no view,
sometimes I'm being extremely kind to you.
Because the sweetest gift I can offer, no doubt,
is keeping the fucking sentence inside my mouth.
The design
Comfort Colors® 1717, with the Typewriter Manuscript design printed on the front.