My secret is made from-

the stream of sorrow,

the screams of a child,

the gossip of a teenager,

the whispers of an angel, 

the feeling  of guilt surrounding me.

I found my secret-

on the tip of a guilty tongue,

trapped inside an egg shell waiting to crack,

lost inside a tear,

in the clouds, far out of reach.

My secret can- 

make love like Romeo and Juliet fade away,

make pinky promises become broken,

make loneliness become social,

break hearts of hundreds.

If i lost my secret, 

even the poppies on the war field will stop growing.