The Secret Sorrow

The child of love,
with innocent heart.
A lie for a name,
and kept in the dark.
It seemed that they knew,
not willing to tell.
To put in his hand,
that most bitter pill.
The secrets buried,
down six feet under.
When the storms weaken,
too far off thunder.
For most everything,
there is a reason.
For every summer,
a winter season!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace