Hidden

a - hidden
His brave face was wearing thin,
proving more and more difficult to uphold,
cracks were forming, pain was leaking out,
he would soon be discovered, 
as broken, not whole. 

Expectations too high, on how he should now feel,
he wanted to scream out the hurt,
but no one wanted to hear,
so, he kept it all inside, 
along with the memory of her. 

As he wiped the tear from his face,
roughly and with practised ease,
he met their gaze full on, pleading for them to see,
he was drowning in sadness,
where was his lifeline? 

Another drink, just one more to numb,
the loneliness in crowds, alone amongst everyone,
another excuse, a reason to leave,
to allow him his time, to silently grieve,
the life he once knew.

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Wendy Pratt

Poet, Author, Editor, Facilitator

Inking Prose & Poetry

The Art of Prose and Poetry

Fevers of the Mind

Writing, Poetry, Short Stories, Reviews, Art Contests

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Where learning means more | Far a bheil ionnsachadh a’ ciallachadh barrachd

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