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Rushing into life too soon,
resembling a tiny wounded bird.
The doctors called her premature,
I called her "my heart."
fragile, with big brown eyes,
too old and wise for the tiny body.
Twinkling, day and night,
twinkling with special secrets.
She has chosen me,
to be her confidante, keeper of secrets.
"Let's build a tent" she says
pulling the blanket over both of us.
The world, too big for her now, becomes smaller.
In the hot tent, the secrets spill out,
big secrets, little secrets...
She trusts me, pulling me into her little world, for now.
Soon the world won't be big enough for her.
Gone will be the tents... the secrets... my heart.
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I know a little secret I promised not to tell
Told to me by a friend of mine as she bid me fond farewell
She said I had
by Carol Gioia
Rushing into life too soon,
resembling a tiny wounded bird.
The doctors called her premature,
I called her "my heart."
fragile,
Dark Secret
I have a dark secret,
I've been around.
I've tasted taboo,
I've made the sound.
I've laid beside
I wish you had not told me
Things I didn't want to know.
Or taken me, in confidence,
To where I shouldn't go.
You shared deceit
by Paul Curtis
BENEATH THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE
Like the star-crossed lovers,
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And
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Poetry: Secrets
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