They say that,
“everybody’s got skeletons
in their closet”;
It’s true because two or three
hide in my closet too.
They relentlessly rattle in my heart,
noisily dance unabated on my mind,
threaten to develop wings and escape
so as to damage my reputation.
Yes, they are mine;
they wade across my muddled memories;
they have tried to unsettle my pride
with fear, regret, guilt, and remorse;
but now I must brave
my burdensome skeletons;
they mustn’t, and can’t hold me back.
I’ve set on a journey
to stop them in their tracks.
I’m gonna open up the closet,
dust them off,
let them stretch out and breathe,
and then hide them in plain sight;
I’ll bring them into the open plains
of a new horizon where they will
not define my destiny.
I’ll however not allow them to crumble,
rot or rust;
they’ll be bystanders, for use
as a constant reminder of paths once trodden
that shouldn’t have been;
a reminder that the battle will not be won
unless the two or three skeletons
that dance in my closet are perpetually subdued.
