#and the title...

oh the cruel irony

of having to hide something

you used to love so dearly

i see a bee buzz by

i feel a pain in my chest

i see my old posters on my floor

i ignore the pang and try to rest

sure, it’s for morals

better to start to support others

than support those who have hurt you

but there’s still something sad about

breaking down

destroying

hiding

something that once brought you so much joy

and sometimes i wonder

“will the things that make me happy

make me hurt in a year’s time?”

but i push that thought away

and write another rhyme