Some things are better left unsaid
When we talk to people,
Strangers, friends, love ones,
We are always trying to separate,
The facts from the fiction,
So much that it becomes a involuntary reflex,
An over-analytical mess,
We only do it, because we know something is wrong,
And for some, we always knew,
It was never neglected, it was just a silent subject,
We've created our own ways, own sayings, and defenses,
When the question rises,
To friends, loved ones and reluctantly strangers,
Sounds of silence, where can you go?,
What can you do?,
But stand, observe and deliver,
Whatever you can because change is irrelevant,
Even for the seasoned optimist,
The group can be there, but the "one" must initiate the plan,
Because at this point, the pain begins to simmer,
Seen, but not heard,
Spoken, but never stated,
Our opinions, our thoughts, our fears,
It's a sign of strength and weakness all at the same time,
But to us an reaction is an over-reaction,
To a losing battle, and painfully, unfortunately,
A self-proclaimed lost cause,
They cannot and will not see beyond the blur,
The ripple effect, it touches everyone,
Friends, loved ones and especially strangers,
Some things are better left unsaid,
I painfully guess,
The dancer moves without a trace,
Poetry by Saga
Read 570 times
Written on 2006-09-28 at 03:29
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keith nunes |
BlueyedSoul |
Kathy Lockhart |