WORDS NOT YET SPOKEN

Poetry, the written word, a silent scream
A whispered fear, or a gentle touch
From my soul to yours, to tell you where
I’ve been but in veiled and hidden images

Some things you must hold on to, keep to yourself
Not to dwell upon, but not to forget
To make the person you have become
Or the one you left behind

So much in the shadows of the mind
Waiting to come forth and join the
The journey we call life
Whether it be amazing or disparaging

Constantly striving
Falling down, falling down
Get up, get up
Daylight is fading, words to be spoken