'A Private Kind Of Hell' Poem by Linda Winchell

She lives in her closed little world
A kind of private Hell.
She cries alone, no ones ears do hear
So much, it now causes her eyes to swell.

What could this woman be crying about?
No one will ever come to know.
For on the outside lay a smiling, happy face
But it’s really just there for show.

Deep inside, now held dormant
Like a volcano about to erupt.
Are many secrets she keeps painfully hidden
While sipping tea, from her finely painted China cup.

Holding her pinky out firmly
As if born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
Hiding all her miseries felt daily
Deeply within screaming, “Please let me out! ”

Yet out her secrets can never come
For the sinful shame of what in her life was done.
She'll wear a mask she paints on herself
And leave the reality of her past
Lie in a dark and dirty, of her now hidden self.

By: Linda Winchell
Copyright: 2009