Family Secrets

As the sun rounds the earth,

And the great breezey wilderness darkens;

Inside, the five mad hatters whittle away at their silent art.

We mutedly make our dreams come to life

Though paper, music, technology, and random thoughts.

Each connection (pen to paper, finger to string, voice to recorder)

Sends another ounce of artistic energy into the overwhelmed orb,

My home.

As we each proudly, soundlessly work,

The sounds of our thoughts merge,

But our one plea is that of secrecy.

Each of us hides the knowledge,

That speaking of our talents,

Sharing it would enhance its quality.

But we sit back in fear,

and silently sculpt our attention- craving masterpieces.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Everyoen in my family is an artist in some way, but we never talk. We generally ignore each other and bicker with inane insults.

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