Why can't I talk to you
Just when I most want to?
I keep my thoughts fears mind
shut up inside. Like a small
box hidden in the back of a
dark closet, shoved under
too many things, I clamp
my trueness in my throat,
never leaking what I'm dying
to say and only saying to hide
what I can't say. The pain is in the not saying but
somehow I don't have the courage
to speak.
6 comments:
Wow, I really love that. And I can relate.
meredith, that's amazing. i love it.
you're back :-)
Oh my goodness! People still come here!
Meredith,
Your poem reminds me of a book, The Giver by Lois Lowry. I'm not really sure why. It's a good book and a good poem :)
-Amy
I just read a comment you made on my blog about how I'm not afraid to rant about my political/cultural views. I have to say I really admire your willingness to share your art with everyone on your blog! That is something I would find really hard to do!
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