It’s easier to hide…
There’s too much pain inside…
Some people call it pride…
The pain is eating me from inside…
Oh, that I might be free….
He keeps calling me…
My hidden pains, He can see…
Free! I would love to be…
Truth seems too hard for me…
It’s easier to hide…
There’s an emptiness inside…
In whom would I confide?
It’s just easier to hide…
The hole keeps growing wide…
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
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