Sharing

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Sharing

My sister, friend,

We shared so much.

Been through the worst,

and rose above.

 

“We have to tell!”

“We have to share!”

In desperation

She implored.

 

My heart sank.

I understood.

And yet I doubted

We’d be heard.

 

But this was more

Than one could bear.

And so together

We would share.

 

Softly she spoke.

I squeezed her hand.

The tears poured down

like thunderous rain.

 

My voice joined hers –

our blood ran cold.

Fear chilled our hearts

down to the bone.

 

Slowly choking

back the sobs,

our words tumbled out.

 

“Father, Mother

Help us, please.

He hurts us where

He shouldn’t be.”

 

“He touches us –

It hurts so much.

Please make him stop.

Please, make him STOP!”

 

But as we spoke,

our secret shared,

The anger in

Dad’s blue eyes flared.

 

“Take it back!”

“Such awful lies!”

“Accusing

your own brother!”

 

More sobs,

then stone –

shocked disbelief.

 

Me?

the one in trouble?

 

Alone, afraid,

I turned to mom.

Her gaze met mine.

Silence.

 

The secret hurt.

But sharing,

it seemed,

was worse.

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Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

LDSforlife’s Poems (3)

Title Comments
Title Comments
My Tears 0
Sharing 0
Love's Cost 0