Playing It Dumb (Poetry)

She was the girl who wouldn’t speak —
refused to play their game
she wouldn’t meet their searching eyes
or answer to her name

Her gaze fixed high upon the wall
or through the window’s glass
enduring silence said it all
as minutes ticked on past

It proved too difficult to read
a face that never showed
a hint of what went on inside
however they might goad

or try in vain to stimulate
reaction — some response
but nothing made her wince or jump
or cry — not even once

Some say that they were cruel
that their interest was unkind
some labelled her a tragic fool
trapped deep in her own mind

They watched her sit and sometimes draw
a house, the sun, a tree
yet no one ever said they saw
the signs of poetry

She slowly aged as all must do
stayed self-preoccupied
and never spoke a single word
up to the day she died

Then turning to her carer fixed
the man with one good eye
smiled soft and said “I fooled you all
for eighty years. Goodbye”

Truth acknowledged on her tombstone
(though the epitaph was short)
For Jane, whose wits were sharper than
dumb experts ever thought