There’s an abundance of wonderful secrets I hold,
that come from the quiet, the quaint, and the bold.
Some are cute and some sweet,
all sugar-spice and neat.
It’s the others I can’t bear,
***** deeds and lives not spared.
I have to keep them all inside,
hidden away from prying eyes,
For I’m bound by a promise made of lightning,
and while I’m not quite keen on fighting,
If these secrets are found out
I’ll claw and kick and scream and shout.
For the shackles that bind me here,
will shatter after ten more torturous years.
So for now I let the rain wash away all my pain,
and thank each passing stranger for the knowledge that I’ve gained.
I think about the gallows,
I think about despair,
I think of all the people who never really cared.
You may not think you know me,
but you’re sorely mistaken.
I live next door, or up one floor,
listening when your minds awaken.
I can see your every thought and dream,
I can hear you when you sob and scream.
I can feel your touch and exasperated breath,
all dancing hot across my neck.
We are the seers
holding stories unknown
feelings unfelt
and words untold.
I could tell you anything, but you’d never know,
for I value my salvation more than a tiny truth sold.
This was inspired by a short story I wrote, but I thought it'd sound lovely as a rhyming poem, so I adapted it