I wrote this poem a while ago while having to face the idea that my affections weren’t and would never be returned (and I didn’t have the nerve to tell the person of my feelings, which happens very frequently). I found it in a random file while searching through my computer, forgetting that I had even written it. I figured I might as well put something remotely personal on this thing other than my rants on life. I like this poem, I’ve never shown it to anyone before so I figure now would be as good a time as ever to do so. I actually don’t share a lot of my poems, mostly because, for me, writing is therapeutic, something I resort to when I am feeling a strong emotion and I want to work it out. So, I write. My poetry is not particularly astounding, or inspiring, or beautiful, but it’s a reflection of how I feel or felt at the time and so I grow attached to every one I write, no matter how silly they seem to be after looking back months, years, or even days later. They are a part of me and I treasure them dearly.
Beneath the radar of this world there is a secret that I hold,
I could never bear revealing for I could never bear it told,
My secret swells inside me, but I cannot let it free,
For if I told my secret, it would have a hold on me.