My Secret

He fooled the strangers that he passed down the street,
the next door neighbours every single week,
colleagues at work, morning 'til late,
but family and friends saw him in a state.

He tip-toed on trying not to wake one man,
drugged with lies, just part of the plan,
sometimes he awoke and caused chaos up ahead,
'people suspected', or that's what he said.

More complex ways to stop that voice,
were put into place, simply no other choice,
they weren't to know, those people out there,
of what he hid inside, of what he couldn't bear.

With no one around and locked in his room,
not one single distraction to lift him from the gloom,
he unbound the person gagged in the docks,
cut the rope clean, provided a soap box.

Too late to rouse him, it'd all been done,
the body all damaged, all blank, no sun,
he hugged him so tightly, crying to himself,
mourning the secret and his failing health.