Home » Poetry » Day 74 – Why Don’t We Tell Them?

Day 74 – Why Don’t We Tell Them?

Why don’t we tell them,
while their ripening minds are in our hands,
the truth?

Why don’t we tell them
that there is pain, and it will come,
that heartbreak is part of our living?

Why don’t we tell them
that the guilt of a wasted life
comes around to haunt us all?

Why don’t we tell them
that birth control pills can clear up bad skin
but there will always be thousands of prettier girls;
that a bullet will sometimes seem the easiest way
but that’s a trick of the mind;
that there is no chocolate or hot rod or sex
which can rival the strength to stand;
that hearts born of the same fire cannot find each other
until they recognize the charred remains?

And why, when we were told,
did we not listen?

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11 thoughts on “Day 74 – Why Don’t We Tell Them?

  1. Charlotte, I thought this was a beautiful poem. Full of a thoughtful philosophy and view of looking back. I think, without beingh asked, it would be perfect except for the reference to ‘birth control pills’ which only for the reason it language grates so much against the rest as though it is outof place. But that is just my thinking linguistically, not morally to be sure.>KB

    • You’re quite right, KB, in that it is out of place, but that’s why I like it. It fits in with ‘bullet’ and ‘hot rod’, which are just jarring enough to convey the point that life involves some ugly, grating stuff.
      I find that I do that in a lot of my poetry, subconsciously- the poems would usually be better off without my favorite parts đŸ˜‰

      • Oh, the chocolate and hot rod and bullet were perfect–against them the pills just seem out of place in language. My suggestuion was meant that perhaps another way of coming at them would suit. Buty you ndo well enough without my help. Still a fine piece of work. >KB

  2. november 21st is my birthday, so i’m going to call this my birthday poem (because i, like you, am an egotistical writer girl). it’s a great birthday poem. i like this part: “that there is no chocolate or hot rod or sex
    which can rival the strength to stand;
    that hearts born of the same fire cannot find each other
    until they recognize the charred remains?”

  3. Pingback: Charlotte Cuevas: Why Don’t We Tell Them | Stark Writing Mad

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