Why was it always so difficult, so
hard to get along, to speak up, to see
yesterday as never again the same.
Was I such a bad person, I could go
against the grain so easily, but time
slipped through my fingers, the waves of the sea
inhabit my memories without blame,
truth and wisdom became a game, I wept
angry tears, my whole life a waste, I rhyme
lines together on a tapestry loom,
wisdom creates metaphors to conceal,
answers arise by watching questions bloom,
yesterday, I understood, to reveal
secrets guides threads of the warp and the weft.
Shy and quiet as a child, no one knew,
only I experienced solitude.
Difficult to process sorrow and pain,
in solitude, I felt alone, I grew
feisty not knowing why, drama unfolds
firstly so unbelievable, the rude
initiation amongst the insane
cult of personality, I could show
underneath the rooftop, a few chokeholds
left unspoken to friends who had no clue,
the silence streamed through my veins as denial.
So simple for some to speak up, the glue
objects to letting go, was I on trial...
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