A hiding place
A secret place
A secret garden, a hidden annex, a private basement, a unnoticed attic, a personal meadow, a concealed clubhouse, closed linen closet- All hiding places
a place where people dance like no one is watching
A place where people sing as if no one can hear
A place where people creative works that no one can see
A space where you reside with without being teased,
A place where you can cry without being mocked,
Where you can dream with being judged,
A space where one can pray with being persecuted,
Where you play with fearing prejudice
And area where you can hide, from the teasing and tensions of life
Where you can’t hear the screams of the helpless and the sounds of the violence, the signs of the hatred, the sound of the mockers, the voice of the dictators and the voice of everyday haters are inaudible
A place where you can hide from the hunger, the violence, the greed, the prejudice, the injustice, of are world
We all have a place where we go to hide. To be who truly are,
We dream, we create, and we discover
We are who we want to be and we are happy
But then we must leave
Are dreams and hopes, are joys and passions, are talents and gift, we leave behind, and at once we are again nobody,
And we fall back into the spell of averageness, and we begin to crave acceptance
And we walk around, hiding true self, trying to seem less vulnerable
Maybe, one day, it wouldn’t be this way
We will all be accepting of ourselves and each other
We will celebrate are difference and not hate each other for them
And all man-kind will walk around, their minds of open to new ideas, their hand open to give some help, and heart open to all people
Then, we won’t need hiding place
Are dreams can be played out in public,
Are songs can fill the air,
We can dance and no one will stare
We can pray and no one will care
We can live are lives, as ourselves and our hiding place will be abandon
Secret annex replace with public squares, concealed clubhouse replace with visible courthouse
We would never have to hide from violence, and prejudice, and strife
What a day that would be
But, at last, until them we all keep secrets
Basements and attic will be used as hide always
Dark alley and corners are invisible meeting places
And half of our lives with be spent, behind closed doors,
In our secret hide places