A Quiet
By Linda A. Copp

There is a hush
Which must be broken.
Sorrow to be expressed
Contrition to be spoken.

Yet, who will yield
To erase the past.
To bind the hurts,
Come forth at last.

Pride is so difficult,
To surmount and suppress,
To admit to oneself,
The guilt and confess.

But, If it were I,
I'd make my peace.
Speak of my sorrow,
And have silence cease

By Linda A. Copp
© June 6, 1967