I’ve had secrets
Rate not keep,
Some by and by
Merit not a peep,
And one or two
Made me so blue
I’d gave a bye…
But I’ve a secret
Shades my life,
I’m made to keep
Tho cannot share,
Thus held to bear
In futile weep,
Without concede
While I’m awake
Or in my sleep,
A secret gloats
As my soul bleeds,
Yet stays afloat
And implies feed
Upon its need,
To be a secret
I’ve to die with!
Poetry on a Canapé 
Thank you to please correct sub-title error, and last line of second verse to read as per this corrected copy. Jean-Jacques Fournier
mmm, yes, well-observed … secrets need feeding and they are fussy eaters. Only one food can sate them: our lives!
I do hope this is not an autobiographical poem.
To the first point, a fine observation indeed, which from you I would not have expected anything less. . Now to the second, what can I say as if I told, it would no longer be a secret, be it mine or someone else’s Jean-Jacques
Very good poem.
When you share a secret , you share your life…
some people don ‘t want to share their life….
A good comment, and a very good ploy… Though me thinks wee me detects a lawyer’s trick and mind at work. At which point I beg differ with the ploy, for the poem thinks like a poet whose mind lives in his heart, that speaks a shared language and intent. If your theory held true, it would but suggest that no one who has secrets, which we all have dead or alive, would not want share their lives with anyone at all, be it mother, father, brother, sister, nor husband, wife, and friend or lover . A strange world that would be, for poetry or me. Jean-Jacques Fournier
Impressive. Food for thought
Pleased to hear you think so. I do believe all we humans have that kind of secret…and maybe the not so humans do too. Jean-Jacques Fournier