THE ECHO SPEAKS

Push

Poor baby has a problem she tries so hard to hide...
Push it down and push it down and scream

 untill you can't see it anymore.

It's all the same...the knives in the surface tongue...

the razors in  her lashes...

the sorrow leaking from her eyes.

She screams into the darkness ...

running from the night that follows at her heels...

running from the pain.

Push it down...try to forget it exists... 

Poor baby has a problem she hides
from all the world...

She knows it...and you know it too...

and she's good at it.

Lane Whitt

© 1999