The Ballad of Implications

If I could curl into a ball
keep my loved ones safe with me
around the edges those who call,
held back in quiet, they would be.

A silence forms and into which
I drop my words to careful teach
lines and precepts, hearts to stitch
deep inside where pain can reach

To heal the grief that doesn’t need
more words from others seeking fame,
Caustic things that make us bleed
and gossip, that can cause the same.

Belief which goes against belief,
a cycle of denial for
their “greater good” and their relief;
bringing glory to their door.

And we. We must rise up above
in quiet prayer our silence keep
never facing, cannot prove.
And all the hurt we put to sleep.

©2/2014 P.Johnson