Though my pain is immense, it is well buried.
No shovel or truth serum could unravel the locks on my coffined truth.
Even the trees whisper of such disarray
For a soul to suffer in such a way.
Lies were told by the town folk all those years ago
Of someone no one truly got to know.
Decades of poems scribbled in faded paper
I beheld and endured, all the while covering myself.
Once I boarded the train even the rails could not sustain
The weight on my shoulders when dawn came.
Continuing my journey, the burden slowly decayed
However, the memory remains of all the paths I crossed
Which slowly led me to today.