By Melanie Heard
Copyright 1999, May not be used for any purpose without the express written permission of the author
I keep all my troubles in a box on my shelf…
A sack on my back…
A book over there…
I hide all my worries in the back of my drawer…
A pocket of my jeans…
Or under a chair…
I conceal all my feelings down deep in a hole…
A post office box…
A crystal glass heart…
I close all emotions in a bright feather mask…
A dark, curtained room…
A shiny new part…
I maintain these things away from your eyes…
These aching mistakes…
These elegant chores…
And now you expect me to let you right in…
And perhaps I just might…
If you first show me yours.