I Smirked a Few Times, Then I Just Played Jenga by Myself — New Poems

No rage, no roar—
 just a calm, chilling nod,
 as he painted the walls
 in gold.
 Mocking the links, talks, and winks,
 everything with a goal.
 Piece by piece,
 trying to knock him down.
 In solitude, they found him still smiling.

✓ Verified human-written