Hush (a poem)
Don’t tell anyone.
They can’t know about you,
that you’re different,
weird, unacceptable, unforgivable.
Don’t tell anyone.
They might think it was my fault.
Don’t tell anyone.
They can’t know about you,
that you’re different,
weird, unacceptable, unforgivable.
Don’t tell anyone.
They might think it was my fault.
filled with thought
layered in dream
lost in this place
where I can be
anyone or anything
my heart desires
or fears may bring
“It is what it is” applies to:
…a rainy day.
…when you forget the lyrics to a song.
…getting a hole in your sock.
If we use immoral means to achieve peace,
will we ever truly have it?
A poem is not found
in an abundance of words.
Nor is it unnecessarily complex.
Poetry is found in the heart
and in the connection it makes.
Fear makes people see things,
exactly how they thought.
Through biased eyes, accepting lies,
their heart should have fought.
Fear makes people see things.
Like every fool that has lived,
I tried to ignore, move on,
forward.
© 2009-2025 E.L. Redwine