No Hiding Place Poem by Graham Fowell
No Hiding Place
No hiding place in poetry
No tree or bush conceals
When standing front and centre
The truth each word reveals.
The pumping heart translation
Lies spilled for all to see.
What's the point of camouflage?
This is how things should be.
Be not afraid of silent eyes
Or sniggers from the stalls,
Cheating truth by sleight of hand,
Can't hide a thumbprints whorls.
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4/23/2024 11:27:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
