If I could dare tell the tales
that
only my pen knows,
I'd be speaking
until
the sun stopped burning
each summer day
and
the moon quit echoing
during
the cold winter nights.
If I could confess the secrets
that paper heard,
I'd be admitting until
death departed with me.
My messages are encrypted
in simple English -
but only I know
what each word means.
I am loved
with
a unknown lover.
Indeed, I write to a muse
no one knows.
I am the director
commanding the invisible actor
across a stage
made of white.
The artist painting
only something I can see.
Take a guess, if you dare -
but
I'll never confirm or deny.
I'm not the type
to betray
the friends I've made.
Though, I'll confess,
sometimes
my lips are loose
and I slip and admit
a secret I was
commanded to never tell.
Judge me if you're the type,
for giving away what's
only meant for my eyes -
but I can't help but show gold
as I've drawn it.
They coo and haw in pleased surprise
as I dash and weave
through whispered green'ry,
letting my fingers dance
in waltz after waltz
across keys and into lines,
but I'll never give away
this one thing:
how I've learned to do it
and who taught me.
YOU ARE READING
To the World...(A Collection of Poems)
PoetryZelda Aurora Gabriel has been writing poetry from the time she was 13. She is now 25. Different from others her age, poetry became an outlet and a means of understanding a world that often didn't understand her. "To the World" is a compilation and a...
