Hidden

HIDDEN

More than a domestic goddess

Able to refinish furniture

Bake anything

Tile bathroom floors

No

She, the stylish

Flirtatious dancing goddess

Graceful, loving,

Full of passion

Yet to most, her truest essence

Hidden.

 

Not nearly

Boring

Even if his shy eyes

Suggest he has nothing to say

Inside his brain’s a

Deep cavern of experience

Of wisdom

Seeing the world as only a few

Old souls perceive it

Rich, intelligent,

But to all his friends

Hidden.

 

While others click their tongues

And say, “Poor thing,”

She seethes inside with life

And art and music

Dismissed by all

She paints in private,

Writes and dances

Late into the night

Driven to create

But certain to keep each effort

Hidden.

 

And so we go

Misunderstood and overlooked

Each one

Capable

Creative

In tune with the magic of the earth

Yet silent in a crowd

Keeping all beneath our surface

Playing safe

Afraid of what will happen

If even once we do not keep

Who we are

Hidden.