Quietly

Quietly I appear to sit
Silently listening
to words I understand
some still foreign.
Mostly I listen
to the chaos within.
Interrupted by the outside,
fragments prompt conversations
of my own.
If the spotlights only
knew what was really
going on, would they
stop?
think?
listen?
The conversation goes on,
they laugh,
pull the spotlight,
bulldozing.
As hard as they try
they do not touch
where I listen
to what was once chaos
but I find peace
quietly.