The poem is only three short lines, but it holds a whole scene: an office where people sit on what they really think. The key word is "kept," which suggests something deliberate. Nobody forgot their best answer or ran out of time. They held it back, the way you might hold something valuable close to your chest.
The last line gives the idea a physical shape. "Their two parted hands" makes us picture open palms, maybe resting on a desk or hovering in a gesture that looks like offering but gives nothing. Two hands parted could also look like a pause before clapping, or before speaking, that never arrives. The hands seem to be where the withheld answer lives.
The speaker doesn't announce a feeling, but the mood is quiet, wry, and a little sad. Judging by the title and the sparse wording, there is a sense of waste: good ideas present in the room yet never shared. The poem leaves us noticing the silence.