G is for Gone Are Those days

Gone are the days of dark, deep secrets and secret things...insidious  and unspoken things. A place of screams that impaled the songstress to their ridicule. No, they could not  know what they didn’t  admit. It could barely be spoken of in hushed whispers, behind closed doors for even cups had ears and flies listened through walls. That place where everyone minded nobody’s business and yet knew everyone’s but their own. Where rancid air reeked of suppressed emotions and fettered thoughts. And  survival meant  you conformed to prejudiced views and succumbed to religion fronting as morality. A foul brew cradling a precarious balance. Those were broken places of biding your time to escape the belly of their beast. A beast that never yawned to let in air, never shifted to offer relief.  Thank God. Gone are those days of chronic trepidation.