Kept Secrets

I never had a secret.
None.
Not really.
I might have had one...
In my youth.
But my face would always reveal,
Anything I wanted to conceal.

I remember trying to lie one time.
And both my father and grandfather,
Had these eyes that would penetrate.
And made knees knock,
If truth did not come out of our mouths.

'Please...
Strip me naked but don't look at me.
I don't know nuthin'...I wasn't there! '

And...
In those days,
If anyone was going to be punished...
For any secrets leaked.
OR suspectedly kept!
We all got the ironing cord.
And it wasn't plugged up to heat.
To iron clothes with either.
Oh no.
We were lined up by age!
My youngest Aunt Ginger,
Used to be conveniently absent.
Only to appear later from places unknown.

I hated those days!
So did my aunts, uncles and cousins too.
And when my grandmother aimed...
She didn't skip a butt!

I gave any secrets I had then up.
And...
Is there really a purpose for them?
Today...
It's difficult to say what's valued and treasured.
Or,
If someone tells you something not to tell anyone else...
Why do they tell you this?
And...
Where did they get what they tell you from in the first place?

Kept secrets and spoken lies are entertainment for some.
And done without question too professionally.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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