The Secret Door
There was a secret window attached to a wall
It had a secret door attached to a secret floor.
This house was mine or maybe it was yours
A very secret house, with whispering secret floors.
Creaking could be heard day in and day out
But mostly it was heard when no one was about.
How could it be I know you think when no one was about
But then again I wonder who came in and out.
a whispering voice could be heard under the secret door
if you lay still enough, you could hear so much more.
Quiet and still like you were dead an ear pressed so still
by the door so secret, the secrets gave a chill.
Still I wonder when time to sleep what was it that I heard
The sounds of children or adults or maybe a little bird.
I never heard the sound so clear that it would be
a definite story of secrets to pass from you to me.
Or maybe I did but cannot tell because secrets like gossip be
only as Honorable as the secrets with people like you and me.
More so now I can say what I saw the other day
I watched a movie it can be told in only one true way.
It told of gossip out of hand and how it flees the truth about
The movie left an impression, namely it was called "Doubt"
The priest recounted a story, how once gossip once you choose
if you cut a pillow in half, feathers fly, uncaptured, set loose.
There was a secret house, which had a secret door
and I hope to live enough to know secrets no more.
For when a secret passes, a secret it is never again
so keep it always to yourself, and that will be the end.
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