Forgot to post this last night.
There are a thousand love poems
hidden deep in my heart, trying
to get out. They come knocking
at all hours, but mostly at night
when I’m alone and the house
is quiet and my heart aches with
the knocking and I want to open
that secret door and let those
words come flying out to find
their way to paper where they
can live and be seen and held close.
But instead they remain locked up,
forgotten, waiting for another day,