Capricorn

As a Capricorn
I make my pain a private thing
A kernel of corn
Only for me to scorn

Tiny cries in my heart
Boundless horror unsaid
My pain is a fruit much too tart
What a gruesome art

Afterwards. When the storm subsides
Then we can talk
I can testify vilify and rectify
I am vindicated
The matter has been debated
The process is unsofisticated
In the crevices of this cracked heart

This poem is about: 
Me

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