unsent draft messages

The words that got stuck
Overruled by panic and pity
Held back and held down tight
Sensible words, subtle

Words ill-conceived
Illustriously poured from within
Whilst the truth
Could only look on
Words strung into chains,
of hope and promise
Since when have chains helped anyone?

Again the truth
Could only look on
Humble empirical words
Lost in the charade of flowers
Far removed from the Eden that once was
The ever-present truth
The keystone
The foundation beneath this crumbling palace

If only the truth was tended to
Given the voice it deserved
Instead it was laid to rest
Along with the shards
Bearing your reflection.