I told my secret to the clouds,
     And they just sailed away.
The wandering wind carried them,
     Into eternity.

I told my secret to the stars,
     By moonlight’s shine they heard.
They sparkled and they twinkled,
     Me they mocked in joyful glee.

I shared my secret with a statue,
     I whispered in his ear–
His speechless face, still and stoic.
     Quietly he scoffed.

I laid my burden upon a flower,
     Pink petals sill wet with dew.
It withered, turning black,
     Reduced to dust both fine and soft.

I carefully whispered my secret,
     Into the morning air,
It grew thick and heavy,
     And transformed into a storm.

Distraught, I wrote my secret down;
     My words, so hot with pain,
Engulfed the paper in fancy flames,
     To become smoking ash and charcoal form.

I tried to keep my secret,
     Inside and never shared,
But it grew stronger and echoed within,
     And deafened my very brain.

Finally, I told my secret to myself.
     “Silly child,” myself did say,
“Have you never heard that a secret shared,
     Is a secret exposed?”