I sit in the darkness of my mind,
wrapped in the situation, draped round me like a cloak,
My mind whispers quietly from the back,
“be honest” but I am finding the words to be lost as they approach my tongue.
In the soft moonlight I am lost to the night,
I wonder if I just said how I feel,
Would it all turn out alright?
Would my words shed some light,
Make us feel we could hold on a little longer,
banish our fright?
And when the sun rises in a couple of hours,
As we bid “good morning” to one another,
Would we see the flowers?
Would they grow after the storm of lies which had rained down upon us both within the night?
At this time, it’s so hard to know, so hard to fight.
So I keep my mouth closed against the difficulties of my mind’s honest might.