So many times in my life I’ve closed the door
On begotten hills, I wanted to forget
Shutting out the past to escape the poison
Oozing from turmoil of self criticism and pain
Too frequent, flicks of negative visions return
Reminding me of old sins from yester-years
Assaulting my conscience with guilt and shame
Wringing desire to return and recreate the scenes
Grudgingly I accept that my life is a locked up closet
Stuffed with images of actions, deeds and thoughts
A scrapbook of living testimony of the days of my life
Recording right or wrong, grading my existence
Sending me into introspection to analyse mistakes
Fashioning fear of ever opening that closet door
Fear of revealing my private pandora’s box to the world
Possibly reaping reprisal I’m too weak to bear
And so I close the closet door from everyone but me
My private library enabling knowledge for reform
To process, revise and rebuild always reaching
Towards the holy grail of self betterment
Can I share my secret with the world?
Will you be understanding or will I lose your love?
I’m bleeding in complete silence and
Suffering alone for what I feel.