Ugly Secrets

Behind secreted, shadowed, sullen smiles
a heart-faced child cries freckled tears
and staining laughter, if it comes.
She dries her cheeks with dirty
hands that touch too much
and misty, green eyes
that hope just once
within her gaze
you’ll care
enough
to see.

Drowning, draped in sumptuous dresses
her shoulders show her puerile pain.
Wearing smiles like jeweled lies
crafted in her crying place.
Somber, servile solitude
Silent songs are never
sung. Turns to face
another wall of
secrets that
she dares
not tell.

 

6 Comments

  1. Bob Mills says:

    Very strong powerful and sad

    1. Thanks, Bob. I’ve been sitting on this one for a while. I wrote it for a former friend of mine. Last night I decided to post it, and ended up completely rewriting it.

      1. Bob Mills says:

        You honestly do have such an amazing skill when you write Bill. A rare talent indeed!
        Regards to you my friend
        Bob

  2. Arkenaten says:

    Well, you know I’m not one for poetry, Bill, but the way you have ‘designed’ this verse is excellent. In fact, the design alone encouraged me to read it. I even began counting the number of words per line!
    Great idea. And I am sure those out there that understand poetry will recognise how good it is too.

    1. Thank you so much. This was one of those that I hesitated to post. So much of poetry is butterflies, tulips, and lost loves these days. When I grew up, poetry tackled the tough social issues. I guess I’m still of that generation.

  3. Mélanie says:

    excellent post, Bill… GL = giant like! ❤ your lines have reminded me Baudelaire and Rimbaud… 🙂
    * * *
    yep, some secrets can be ugly=dirty=nasty… brrr!!!

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