These things that we bury

These things that we bury, we aspire to hide. At times in our souls, held deep there inside. To accomplish this task, one must first make a hole. Sometimes in the ground, other times in their soul. Now a hole in the ground is not a big deal. But a hole in our soul must always be healed. So we fill it with secrets and worries and doubts. Not realizing then, that one-day they'll want out. So we bury our problems, these things that we hide. In a sad vain attempt at salvaging pride. Now this thing that we've hidden, that we've put in this hole. It begins to decay, body, mind and then soul. The malaise that we feel, the cause we know not. When deep down inside, it's the on-set of rot. Now these things that we bury they rot and decay. We've hidden them there hoping they'll go away. But that won't happen, at least not on it's own. For these things that we bury must eventually be shown. Now my question is this, when is the right time? Do we share these secrets while still in their prime? Or wait until later, when their stench and their smell, Have made these secrets much harder to tell. If you ask my opinion, and I'm sure no one did. The answer lies not in ego or id. It lies in our hearts and compassion we share, It lies in the kiss and the touch and the prayer. So these things that we bury, we must openly share. Or these things that we bury will always be there. jc051401