Cliché Ridden
Do you consider my
reticence
a flaw?
Is silence not golden?
I am
no longer a character in
your passion play.
The sacrifice was too great.
You want to hear
a solo
on my heartstrings.
I did that for
too long, wearing it on
my sleeve, while you
looked the other way.
Sadder, but wiser,
I’ve learned
my lesson. Consider that
book closed.
We have become
a cliché.
(In the past.)
This a poke at myself. I’m slowly learning to avoid common terms and phrases in my poetry, but lapses occur. Consider this a way to purge myself of the habit, get it out of my system. Damn! There I go again. Sometimes it just can’t be avoided. Damn!
