Think No More of Me
Forgive me for seeming timid
Or shy, or quiet, or rude
Forgive me for appearing to be polite
Well mannered, courteous, but
I ask no forgiveness for my feelings
I hold them in my heart where
They are guarded from judgement
They are the music of my soul
They belong only to me
They’re the percussive blow of grief
The vibrato of pulsating joy
The solo of winter-like loneliness
The persistent tinkling of hope
And I share them only with you
rhymeswithbug 