We wait for the last possible moment.
Even when confronting our opponents.
How we truly feel.
We hide behind our counterfeit expressions.
Conceal and contain our countless confessions.
Failing to announce,
What our mouths long to pronounce.
We purposely squander opportunities.
Maintaining our positions within our communities.
Avoiding any disclosure,
Reducing the risk of exposure.
We use humour to dilute what we actually say.
Because the truth does not have to be revealed today.
We know there always is a tomorrow,
So today has not got to be filled with sorrow.
We wait and wait.
Stall and prolong.
Until it’s too late
And the moment has gone.
There is never a convenient time.
For us to say what is really on our minds.
It takes the sight of a death bed.
'You don't have to watch, dear,' Mother said, as she held another length of ribbon against Sally's face.
'If you must look on like that, Claire, do come and be useful,' said Grandmother. 'Which one of these ribbons best brings out Sally's eyes?'
'What does it matter about Sally's eyes?' said Claire. 'Even I've got eyes on the outside.'
'You're silly,' said Mother, 'being miserable on purpose.'
'I'm not miserable on purpose!'
'My sisters were the same,' said Grandmother. 'Silly, jealous little girls.'
'If this always happens,' said Claire, 'then why have more than one daughter?'
'To love them, silly. Stop, Mother.' Sally brushed away the length of ribbon, crossed the room and crouched down in front of Claire. 'The Sight may