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The group chat buzzes with another plan again
They want me to join, but I'll politely abstain
My private calendar stays open for my design
And every open slot is filled with something fine
I turn down all drinks, loud bars, and blurry nights
I trade their battle cries for bedtime delights
My living room has soft plants and silent spaces
Where I can read without the social graces
I listen to rain tap on the rooftop's drain
It's better than the bar's raucous refrain
The gift of plenty is the right to stay inside
Not out there chasing what they think I provide
They call it isolation, but I call it absurd
I never felt so full when I was out in the herd
The door is mine to open or close up
I pour my quiet into my own cup
The time is all mine
The kettle hums a patient song
I owe no one a single bright smile
My private peace is not up for sale
The door can stay shut
I've got enough to give the world a miss
The sofa waits and the books agree
No small talk draining all my energy
This is wealth
The bar can keep its own loud parade
I'm home where the pans and recipes are made
The bubbling pot is my new metronome
And I sit down to eat in my own cozy home
No loud applause will ring for my quiet bite
But the seasoning knows how much I ate tonight
The foam of my cappuccino draws a silent word
Like a tale that no loud circle has ever heard
And if they call my corners thin as a pin
I smile because my own deep feast is within
This wealth is not a large vault or a golden bin
It's the plain content of being so fully in
They say a rich life needs a whole crowded round of friends
But I found my circle in the steam my kettle sends
The table has one chair but it's not bare
Plenty is not noise, it's the fullness there
The time is all mine
The kettle hums a patient song
My evenings are mine to command
I choose quiet over crowded air
My lamp burns steady
There is a fortune in the leafy green
My shelf holds stories none need to tell
I am the only guest this room receives
My own wealth
