"They" in this poem are those who are trying to figure me out because somehow I don't fit into their mold.

Somethings are better left unsaid

They stare at me

Their eyes brimming with questions

I stare back at them

My eyes offering no explanations

They seek to peel open my layers

But I do not oblige

Because like an onion

The content of those layers might draw stinging tears to their eyes

Poetry by Alfred Iwerebor
Read 636 times
Written on 2006-05-17 at 11:17

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Amanda K
loooooooooool, koool one