Burned Paper

I used to burn all the poems I wrote when I was younger. I probably should burn all the ones I write now.

I never used to speak loudly

If I did speak it was with hushed words

Or written down

But it was never given an audience

I burned so many words

So many words that 

Honestly should have been heard

Instead they’re lost

Even in my mind they’re lost

I’m no performer

If I make something beautiful

I can hide or destroy it

Creating a secret no one will learn

Reviews

[emmajoy]

To my surprise, reading a second time, I think this has a touch of hope - unlike your other posts. Words are like packeted pharmaceutical waiting to be opened.. you need follow the directions, and, pray, cross all, that they make you feel so much better than were.

Even though those two final lines are dark, the couplet seems to be asking what you should do.. to burn or not Perhaps you're waiting to be read, to be heard,..tis such a promising sign.

[Anna Seraphim]

Thank you so much for reviewing my poem. I'm sorry I took so long to respond. I'm pretty shy. I spend a lot of my time thinking things over obsessively. I hope you enjoyed it.