literature

Skeletons

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Literature Text

Skeletons, skeletons
Lining the wall
Skeletons, skeletons
When shall you fall?

You lie in our basements
Beneath kitchen sinks
You give no true odor
No damnable stink

The most obvious place
To look, don't you know?
Is the closet, of course
Where all dark things are stowed

There it is, empty eyes
Whitewashed bone all in all
No spiders around it
Nothing left on which to crawl

You've just won the game
Congratulations, my friend
The secret is found
The darkness is at an end

A sigh in the nighttime
A demon's righteous death
But you can no longer think
You no longer draw breath

You're now one of them
The secret's magic is through
You'll be joining them all
You're a secret now too

No truth to be told
No love to shine out
Those secrets you keep
Shall burn with no doubt

Tell the truth, as your told
Like your parents once said
Tell the truth, or else perhaps
You may well join the dead

Hide like a skeleton
Beneath dirt and debris
And like the buried corpses
You'll never be free
A little poem about the metaphorical 'skeleton in the closet'.

Secrets aren't fun. All in all, they just hurt people, it seems. Don't keep it all in if you think it might cause harm, because it will hurt less to just reveal it outright than let it be found.
© 2011 - 2024 TrueKnight25
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