Keep to the secret paths
those within that none observe
hidden from the public view
lest the monsters sniff out blood
they care nothing for the goal
of seeking light beyond dark shoals
there is no shame in injuries
distress is part of life’s regime
troubles shared are a remedy
binding sores for glad relief
if only this did not bring
the hungry wolves of misery
the packs hunt in plain sight
with long knives near at hand
a friend’s mask conceals much worse
with the edge behind their back
the scent of wounds is a delight
a feast is hinted by the invite
ambrosia set upon a plate
then truthfulness is betrayed
in response the light is shunned
hid away from the sun
wrapped around the wounded frame
with only self to know the pain.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190328.
The poem “Secret Paths” was inspired by a conversation I had with a fellow dancer. I stated that I felt a degree of healing from my public sharing of struggles. Writing becomes a therapeutic pursuit. My fellow dancer stated that they did write also, but they did not share any of it with other people. In fact, some of the struggles were never directly documented as they remained bottled up in the self. I asked why, and the dancer stated that young people, specifically teenagers, were very cruel. To show weakness only invited attack.