To Be Frank Poem by ashok jadhav

(A figure steps forward, hands in pockets, voice calm but edged with urgency.)
To be frank—
I've rehearsed this honesty a hundred times,
always stopping just before the truth
got uncomfortable.
Because being frank
isn't about speaking freely—
it's about risking what follows.
To be frank,
I nod when I disagree.
I smile when I'm hurt.
I agree to lives I never chose
because silence feels safer than honesty.
They say, "Just be frank."
As if truth doesn't bruise,
as if words don't change rooms,
relationships, reputations.
To be frank,
I'm tired of translating myself
into something more acceptable.
Tired of trimming my thoughts
so they fit inside other people's comfort.
I have swallowed opinions,
dreams,
even my own name—
all in the name of peace.
But peace built on silence
is just another kind of war.
So to be frank—
this is me stepping out of hiding.
This is my voice, unpolished,
shaking, but real.
You may not like it.
You may walk away.
But at least tonight,
I will recognize myself.
To be frank—
this honesty is long overdue.