There are passions hidden inside,

In chests locked and dusty.

I wish I didn’t have to hide,

All the best parts of me.

It’s not as if I chose to leave,

Parts of my heart behind.

It’s not as if I didn’t grieve,

And fight back with my mind.

My passions were taken from me,

By life’s consequences.

I can’t fix what’s happened to me,

Or live in ‘past tense’s’.

If I could make a net to cast,

Into the sea of thought.

I’d ne’er have let them swim on past;

Yet, it is all for naught!

I can not fix my skittish brain.

There is no pill or cure;

Though I wish I were not insane,

‘Want’ won’t make it occur.

I opened up the chest last night,

In dreams, I came to life.

I sang and it was all alright,…

Then wept for my lost life.

No one will ever know the me,…

The me which could have been;

She had passions you’ll never see,

But some dreams can’t happen.

There are passions hidden inside,

In chests locked and dusty,

And if I may, I’d like to confide,

That sometimes I will take the key,

And open them up for a time.

K. Aldaya, 8/27/18

Picture: https://pixabay.com/en/key-open-castle-close-close-up-1422806/