Honesty Whispers

by on March 7th, 2015
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She awoke at half past four


By a familiar voice whispering from the old attic closet.

She knew it was time.

So she draped off her lacey sallow quilt,

Snatched a rusty rose gold key off her antique dresser,

And rushed each and every step down the creaky wooden hallway

Even though her heart was not ready.

She did not stop running

Until she arrived at a cold black door

Where her shaking hands fit the rusty rose gold key into its dusty knob.

She closed her eyes in fear

Even though she knew exactly what was coming

As she turned the dusty knob one time to the left.

The voice of honesty answered her at the door

Letting out the beckoning truth

That it hid in the old attic closet for oh so long.

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