Sinking deep, the soul that keeps a secret for too long

Sinking deep, the soul that keeps a secret for too long A wrong’s been done and silence is the key Brooding with intruding thoughts Too terrible a parable to tell An earthly version of some hell As statues, still and silent were the hurting Sharing separate pains, but never telling Never quelling fears and darkening days All of childhood is a haze Then the heart became a maze Only a pencil could unravel To travel through the years slowly Unwinding all the tears of pain To then regain the soul, and to finally console The young heart within from all the sins That severed short her time To conquer this, and then to kiss A life freshly renewed Is nothing short of admirable And even to conclude By sharing her experience from one unto another I must admit, I’m honored that this woman is my mother. Mark Burton Tuesday, January 27, 2004, 2:00 A.M.