Andy Gullahorn The Secret
Back when Charlie was a boy somebody handed a secret down with a long list of unwritten rules so he’d die before he let it out.
He carried it like a silver dollar in the pocket of his heart.
It cried out for some room to breathe but his pride just kept it in the dark.
And the darkness was like rainfall to a flower.
It needed it to grow.
And the roots kept growing deeper till the wrapped their wretched arms around his soul.
Gotta let that secret go.
That boy soon became a man who thought he was too strong to lose.
Surrounded by a wife and friends who knew everything about him except the truth.
The truth was like a double edged sword in someone else’s hands.
He knew his friends would listen but he never thought that they could understand the way the secret can.
In the middle of the sidewalk was a single blade of grass.
It kept pushing up from under till it finally made a crack.
When that crack became a canyon wide it was past the point of covering.
With no familiar place to hide Charlie set the secret free.
Freedom was a hammer to a darkroom wall that let the light shine through.
He knew carrying secrets to the grave was impossible to do.
The secrets carry you.
