things etcetera


some things are better left unsaid,

or so the story goes,

along the skein of lifelong thread

connecting all in sorrow

but some of these like specious friends

who once claimed to be more,

must needs be outed, their way to wend

through wind and raging storm

for things can eat the inside out

like acid rain of tears,

bringing caring hearts about

to a view that often sears

the very skin from bones

of those who came and went away

leaving naught behind but withered rose

where love once did hold sway


but things are spoken at our cost,

when bonds are tossed aside

for chance to reconcile is lost

to rueful darkness far inside

the barren walls of soul’s sweet concept

where bitterness takes root,

ere’ we pause angry words have crept

disguised as hidden truth


copyright r.b.franklin 24/09/06

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