There is so much that he
would talk about, but dare not say.
He knows keeping it within
is a recipe for pain and suffering
but letting it loose makes
that pain and suffering a certainty
for others and he is not
willing to do that to anyone.
He laughs when he wants so much
to curse language for words
are all he has and they now choke
him, embalm him with what
he needs to be rid of so badly.
And so he takes pen in hand
and the words flow from him
onto the paper, the weight
is somewhat lifted, and he takes
the paper and tucks it away,
a poem to be edited another day.