October 18, 2014
Child Sexual Abuse
November 2, 2014

Hidden Truth

Your crumpled features and forlorn face
Belies mad mischief dwelling behind solemn eyes;
As the dull cacti in the gravel gives no sign soon to bloom
Our senses are caught unprepared lifting delight from gloom.
Things are not often what they seem.
Shadows not sinister, but relief from the days haze.
The laughing man not happy, but dying inside.
Would I have the wisdom to know truth from lie.
Yet if unadulterated knowledge were abroad
And raw truth the onslaught at every turn
No kind cushioning to soften the shock
How cruel that stark truth and sad the world.