Behind Closed Doors

For years she’d tucked him right away
Behind closed doors; it is true
And covered him in dusty coats
Of smoking China blue

Locked well away and quite concealed
To not see light of day
She panicked what he might reveal
What others might well say

She buried him and lived a lie
‘Neath life’s baggage and more
Where none could reach him; none would see
Behind the locked tight door

And left in hope he’d disappear
He rotted where he stood
Lest the odd prod of consciousness
Or rattle on the wood

For though she wished with all her heart
He’d go and she’d forget
She feared he’d talk, for he was her
Skeleton in closet

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