Suffering was out of bounds when I was made of mahogany
Unspeakable questions
Harsh splinters rising in my throat
Unspoken words
Disconnected yet understood.
You
Choose to cry in silence
Or hold each cold, stainless knife
As every accepted incision
Absorbed each contradiction
To accommodate dazed intent.
So tell me the answer
As I face again the experience
And let the crinkled mask shatter
A purging of my furrowed brow.
In empty sanctuaries
At last children play
And hide inside Almond Groves,
Blistered blossom grieves
Stripped of tenderness
Where silent buds kiss the freshening breeze.
“On that day you will no longer need to be ashamed, for you will no longer be rebels against me.” – Zephaniah 3:11
Life From A Park Bench 
This poem expresses to me the universality of seeking answers to those ‘unspeakable questions’ within one’s heart. Somehow the words inside must find a way to be spoken & not stay hidden as children in an almond grove.