I used to pride myself
On publishing
Every poem
That I'd ever written.
Until one day,
I attended a funeral,
And I realized all stories
Aren't mine to share.
They may be mine to write,
And mine to remember,
But the story of
The boy and his basketball
Are not mine to share.
I'll hold those poems tightly,
The three I've never published.
Perhaps I'll read them to my children
Or my lover
But never will they be mine
To share with an audience.
Some stories are too painful
Not to turn into poems
Yet too personal
To share with the public
03/23/24