I only know
because I have learned.
Stories withheld are equally earned
and tales told are privilege allowed.
Curiosity, though it begs,
is but a fiat currency,
powerful in its own worth
and valued for its perception.
For want of words never said,
emphatically loud whispers
are willfully forgotten,
delighting all concerned
though they shout with acts,
yell for action,
implore in acquiescence,
and present with presence.
Longing forget is willingly forgotten
while the joy for loss
turns to a loss of joy;
a shame(d) with a smile.
Words unsaid are as meaningful
as their otherwise-
living demands that
we forgive their absence.
