I have something to confess:
I don’t upload every poem I write.
It’s not that I don’t trust you,
But…
It’s just…
Some things should never
Make it out of my head;
Some words don’t deserve
The life I gave them;
Some papers just need
To be burned.
Some things I am not ready
To admit;
Some things you are not
Ready to overhear.
Forgive me Father…
And Mother too,
Brother,
Sister, I guess,
But you are not my priest,
And you shall not hear my
Every confession.
pickpoetry 