Saft in the Heid
 
When I was young and tried to write
about my feelings late at night,

this little devil hissed at me:
“You can’t do that. It’s half past three.”
 
And if I ever tried to say
just how I felt during the day,

a voice would cry out from the crowd:
“Such honesty is not allowed.”
 
And so I learnt throughout my youth
I wasn’t meant to tell the truth.

Now that I’m old, I find that I’m
speaking it softly all the time.

Duncan Gillies MacLaurin

If you have any thoughts about this poem, Duncan Gillies McLaurin  would like to hear them