The Truth

January 16, 2009
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He pokes my side
I glare at him,
visible in my eyes
I say
Not really meaning it
Hoping he keeps
He pokes me again
This time
I grab his hand
And squeeze
He squeezes harder
And I squeeze my hardest
But he thinks im playing
Not knowing
That I don’t want to let go
I let go
Of his hand
With a silent sigh
Wishing I had
the courage
the bravery
the confidence
to tell him
the truth.

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