This is my first attempt at Prose Poetry, and is something I'd like to include in my stories. I began with the line, "Who do you tell your secrets to, when you go to sleep - alone" sitting in my thoughts over the winter. I hope this poem suits my purpose - the story is a murder/mystery. Please feel free to leave suggestions, reactions, questions, thoughts, or any other type of comment. Thank you.
Keeping Secrets (original title, already taken)
Who do you tell your secrets to, when you go to sleep. Alone. Night after night. Day after day. In a big old house, or out in a stream. There is no one, not one you can trust. Is this the way of a life of dreams? Can you say "So long" with a little cream? Tenderness and kisses. His strong arms - she misses. Roses, beaches, Paris. All are wishes. There are no more seasons, dry eyes that cannot reason. Gold, yellow or rose. Time, no longer knows. This direction or that, who was it that wore that hat? Please, I'm begging you, not today. I've nothing more to say. Leave. Go away. Here I must not stay. Cyanide in the pantry. Sunshine through the trees. No more foolishness, bringing me to my knees. You claim life's to blame. Me? No more living - deep in sheltered shame. Life is mine. Secrets and all. At night I sleep. When I wake, I stand tall. Nobody can see, nobody can know. Who do you tell your secrets to, when you go to sleep. Alone.
© 2011 Rafini
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