A truth you do harbor.
A painful realization,
You cannot fathom or muster.
Those thoughts, those memories.
Run away, and hide,
Lies, deceit, half-truths, figments of imagination,
Paint on that canvas pulled taut.
Brush under the carpet,
Their stench will eventually undo you.
Your soul, your heart,
How will you lie to?
Those memories, the truth
How long stay buried in those recesses?
When eventually the sun sets,
The accounts tallied.
Those truths will not stay shrouded,