The Secret Drawer

I went to shelter myself from the world that put me in a cast.
To a hidden, darkened café that unexpectedly spoke my past.
I sat alone in a dim lighted corner along with a solitary candle.
Admiring the old-fashioned style table that had a draw and a delicate handle.
I stared at the drawer and looked around as my curiosity grew.
So I pulled on the drawer handle and found letters and cards and drawings too.
As I awaited my food I sat and read through them, poems, letters, diaries galore.
One after the other, I saw them all and yet there was more and it never became a bore.
Learning the emotions of others and knowing I wasn’t alone was enough pleasure.
Seeing the true emotional hearts of the cold world, the drawer gave me a real treasure.
I finally stopped reading my treasure as many thoughts came to mind.
An idea arose, as I decided to write out my own heart and finally shine.
Like butter on bread, on special paper my hand glided and printed my every word.
My joys, my sorrows, my anger, everything I can think of, just so I could be heard.
My hand had stopped writing, for my aching heart was no longer screaming.
Without a solitary thought, my absent mind ended this with a signature, as if I were dreaming.

I folded my paper, and a contribution was being made with all the other letters, my words were without a flaw.
And so I quietly left the darkened café, proudly leaving behind my melancholy self, within a hidden secret draw.

~FIREBIRD
09/12/00
©2000. All Rights Reserved.