someone said "i carry Sucrets in my pocket" and i heard something different.

I carry secrets around in my jacket pockets
Crumpled little bits of this and that
Badly worn from disant travels and terrible hardships
Carefuly retrieved, then shoved forgotten into shadowy depths
Where they linger long, but never alone

They nestled deep down, brooding and plotting escape
Attempting to draw power from my silly-kitten mittens,
The mittens, they rule this particular roost
Secrets strive to depart, to be revealed
Yearn for the power they covet of superior mittens

Falling unnoticed from secret's tattered edges
Little grains of truth linger in the deepest darkness
Mingling with bits of dreams - fragile as glass,
and a fine dusting of star stuff - so far from home
They lay indistinguishable and forgotten by overloard mittens

Truth hides in its anonymity, secure and at peace
The power struggle rages above, negligent of those grains
The little forgotten things, having found new friends
rejoice with the fragile dreams and distant star stuff
Knowing that without truth, secrets remain powerless