A New Woman
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Secrets aren't meant to be hidden.
All they do is eat away your flesh until thee is bedridden. They are meant to be shared. Only with those you trust all the others are baggy and flared. Those tight and pushed in are best shared. The baggy flares they never once before cared. Now the ear rattles bones, eaves droppers all round yet to be caught they so scared. Yet they still try so hard to know. Oh, no, no, no. Here they come carrying the information then they are on the go. Secrets aren't meant to be hidden, but to be confessed. Undressed. A problem shared. Its a problem solved and you know they are not baggy and flared. That the real friends now they care as they always cared. Almost perfectly paired. The others to play dangerously as they always dared. To play another game as they always teared. God gave us real friends so we can share all these secrets with them just like with Him. Vote for this poem
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