deepundergroundpoetry.com
Skeletons
A clattering from the closet, as the skeletons rise,
Old wounds now dancing before my eyes.
No more hiding, no more escape,
The past clings closely in sorrow’s drape.
The skeletons once silent now start to speak,
Revealing the secrets they longed to keep.
Whispering truths I dare not speak,
A vow unsaid, a silent prayer—
This endless load is my cross to bear.
With every step, they draw ever so clear,
The truth, like a storm, looms painfully near.
No longer a shadow I can flee,
But a mirror reflecting what I used to be.
They laugh aloud—they no longer fear,
For the truth once hidden is now painfully clear.
brazzoli 1-15-25
Old wounds now dancing before my eyes.
No more hiding, no more escape,
The past clings closely in sorrow’s drape.
The skeletons once silent now start to speak,
Revealing the secrets they longed to keep.
Whispering truths I dare not speak,
A vow unsaid, a silent prayer—
This endless load is my cross to bear.
With every step, they draw ever so clear,
The truth, like a storm, looms painfully near.
No longer a shadow I can flee,
But a mirror reflecting what I used to be.
They laugh aloud—they no longer fear,
For the truth once hidden is now painfully clear.
brazzoli 1-15-25
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