I spoke of my hurt and still got hurt
and then I just stopped talking
I withdrew inside myself
and just kept on walking

for if those who listen do not hear
and neither do they care
what is the point of words
drifting, floating upon the air

Now my hurt is my own
I keep it deeply hidden
for no one wants to know
of darkness, pain, the forbidden

You will see the laughter
the kindness and the love
you’ll see what you want to see
or at least part thereof

Trish Johnston © 4th March 2019