Your Inner Self

Tell us how you really feel,
under the paint and pictures,
the weight outward pushing,
heart and desires pulling,
pieces and bits that make you up.

Tell us how you really feel,
hidden expressions,
wide-open secrets gaping,
telling us something you don’t mean
and we pretend to not already know.

Tell us how you really feel,
pains flowing softly from the places
long since inundated in bubbling pleasures,
so nice and fine and just plain good,
but dark and hurt and just plain dead.

Tell us how you really feel,
on this road you’ve chosen
and why it guides you and all the whys
that gave you reason to go left
rather than unto the right.

Tell us how you really feel,
how clouds distant change your heart,
where walls of rain leave pools of doubt
and deepest sun makes only shadow
there upon most distant surface.

Tell us how you really feel,
hold nothing back from display,
leave no timid thought unturned,
nor scarréd heart keep buried deep
until the dawn crashes down.

Tell us how you really feel,
for you are given many a good reason
to feel many terribly good things
yet wonderfully dark the occurrences
that dance about these spiral years.

Tell us how you really feel,
what you’ve learned and buried,
forgotten and raised on high,
how your life will pass beyond
and grow through growing pain.

Tell us how you really feel,
under all the weight and measure,
maskéd pain as joyful wonder,
delight shrouded in despair,
and all the silence grasping, asking,
tell us how you really feel.

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