This cannot be spoken.
It cannot be shouted over hills
Or heard reflected in the caves
Where shadows dance upon the walls.
This cannot be spoken.
You will not find a man who has the nerve
Or a woman with the same
No voice has ever been that brave.
This cannot be spoken.
Not even in a fervent dream
It shall consume you beyond your will
But that is no reason for shame.
No, this cannot be spoken, or screamed, or whispered,
Or smuggled away in the dead of night
Or anything of the sort.
Written April, Revised May 5, 2012
Luv this one. I just wish there was some kind of happy conclusion summing things up in a positive nature at the end...howeva, i suppose this is not the general nature of life/the poem
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