Hidden behind
the icy veneer
Walled inside
the suit of armor
Buried beneath
the marble floor
Lies the dirt we carry
Insidious in nature
A by-product of
long-forgotten choices
caught between
hard-placed rocks
It waits, worming
its way through veins
firing synapses
like gunshots
oozing fear
through pores
until someone
sees beyond
the facade
leaving us
exposed
I learned so much about icebergs during our time in Alaska. I never before thought of them being various sizes and colors. I’ve already published a poem about a beautiful blue one we saw, but I was just as fascinated by this one that carried the history of its travels within. The same is true of us, and we can either hide away in shame or break free and shine in the sun inspire the imperfections.
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