Poems are a way to tell ourselves how we feel

The typing of the truth

The feelings only for us

Other people find them

Feeling exposed and naked

The real us is there when we’re naked

The truth comes out in rivers and gets left in ponds

Ponds forgotten and we are clothed again

The truth has been covered up by lies

We hide who we really are in fear

Fear of the truth

When we are left naked we don’t know what to do

Nakedness leaves us clueless

We haven’t met the real us

We haven’t seen who the people around us really are either