In poetry and in lies we hide
As the weight of memories in their dim out’s twilight fade
Spared from the reach of the incoming waves from pain’s tide -– or so we go on to say…
And from denial’s might! Always hoping it is not yet too late
What misery we spread in our heads and on the written page
A flaw? A fallacy?
Who in these realities can tell?
Is it the one who reads the words they see? Or the one who weaves the tale?
I wonder if one day she will read… And claim I do not exist: A fake.
But if I may share a nugget I’m now mournfully qualified to share:
Emotions cannot be hidden or preserved forever.They must be unconfined from our pots
As we humans are not worthy or deemed to retain inside us what we need not fear nor tame.
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