Who am I kidding. Everything I do only gets a working title. I'm not good at naming my poetry. As always, comments are wonderful. Input is accepted. Anyway, here it goes.
The silence eats away,
Gnawing at the soul of the one so oppressed
With the burden.
Secrets of his own, of others,
Of worlds separate from our own
To keep.
To hold.
To forever seal.
Hate, anger, and spite,
Towards himself, others.
Love unrequited,
Of his own, others.
He goes unacknowledged,
Noticed only if he unloads the burden.
Divulges the secrets.
Destroys the silence.
Ends it all.
Things could change.
He could be happy, his soul freed.
But no, the bond holds him captive.
Bond of fellowship, brotherhood.
Like a cage, it holds him.
He is only free to destroy his personal silence.
The burden of his own secrets can be lifted.
If only.
Other factors remain.
Fear, anxiety.
Worry of how things will change.
Will the anger dissipate?
Will the love reciprocate?
Evaporate?
Simply stew in bitterness until
It is forgotten by all involved?
The future cannot by seen,
Cannot be known.
Thus, he holds the secrets close.
He longs to be rid of them,
But the world holds him back.
If only.
Last edited by
Atamand on Sun Apr 10, 2005 3:07 am, edited 1 time in total.