Nightly Routine

Late at night
Lying in bed
Headphones on
Listening to music
Or a few recorded poems
Reading the latest
I attempt to craft a new one
Or brush up a draft not quite finished

It’s becoming routine
I’ve always been
An undercover poet
Now I’m sharing my words
With my family’s support as an added bonus

Shared are the happenings,
The disappointments,
The contests never won,
Submissions rejected
And poetry readings I’ve done
But only a select few are read
Only those that are safe
Too many things need to be left unsaid

Safe are the clouds
Blowing with the whispering wind
Safe are the waves
Leaping over me as I rescind
All my powers to Mother Nature
She’s the one we must bow to
Who we give our ultimate thanks to

Those poems of desire and longing
Full of sorrow
Never to be filled
By our wants in all of our tomorrows
No, those things aren’t safe
There’s too many things that need to be left unsaid

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