Sometimes it feels like the secrets I hide
Are the only things I have left to share,
And that when I confess them,
No one will have a reason to care.
It seems as though everyone is
Out to discover your memories,
Trying to understand your pain,
Believing they’ll fulfill your needs,
But every time you trust in one,
You’re soon betrayed.
And then they open the door
From which you friendship was made,
Soon again you’re left alone
With no one there to care.
And all your secrets are stolen,
Gaining more heartache to bear.
So when you ask me why it’s hard,
To open up to you,
It’s because i’m afraid to release
The memories I hold onto.

10-10-1990 Wednesday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: written for Carolyn’s book.
God is my hero.