Young Writers Society

Please come and sit a while with me
By candlelight in moonshine’s hour
We’ll whisper to the tongue of fire
And wonder where the life’s gone
While counting those who have done us wrong
Our speech is delicate – amours, affairs, demise
We count their stories and unweave their lies
Sitting here among the candlelight
Our secrets will sprout – take wing, take flight

Our heads, they burn with marks of gossip
Tongue-setting ourselves straight
We titter to the jokes we make
The threats, the insults, we derogate
We’ll sit just for a while
Confidential moments stuck in time
Obscuring people and their meanings in their life
For we, oh, we must justify
The reasons why they’ll live or die
For we do not complain or cry
Perfection just a speaking trial
And, after all, we’re not sure who was convicted here

I hope you enjoyed our time by the fireside
And please don’t speak outside these walls
This is no secret, no clandestine,
But perhaps best not told of
For we do not indulge by the candlelight
Or so it seems in other’s eyes
When they sit, locked up with their friends
Tittering, counting, drinking fine wine
I’m sure that they do not indulge
And nor do I