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If we do not speak of it
It will not be there
That’s what we said
And for days we managed
To skirt around it
For words do damage
And sight even more
If we allow ourselves to see it
So it isn’t there
It isn’t there
Until our child was witness
No filters to their eyes
No understanding of
the comfort of avoidance
And little, harmless lies
And how can we now deny it
As his little truth now blooms
‘Mama there’s an elephant in the room’
I’d still rather not see it
But it’s vexing in the extreme
For how can we unsee it
Now the worst thing has been seen?
(c) Helen Valentina 2017
helenvalentina 
[ Smiles ] Lovely poetry.
It is nice to see that your blog is still around!
Made me laugh Helen. Thanks
Thanks John! 🙂
Watch where you step with that guy in the room
🙂
Amazing insight and sadly true. Love it! Jeanne Marie
Thanks so much! 🙂
Welcome!