Wed, 08/06/2014 - 19:10 -- CLJett

I write with a pen name.

Like a child at play, I hide.

No one can say my words are lame,

If they don’t know I’m Jekyll, and they’re reading Hyde.


Never knowing that we are one.

Behind my nom de plume,

I weave stories freely, and for fun.

To be found out would be my doom.


Should embarrassment take me,

My face would burn red,

As the words that I let free

Crashed upon my head.


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