What The Years Couldn't Hide Poem by bonifacio alba

'What the Years Couldn't Hide'
by Bonifacio Alba

Before the vows, before the ring,
There were stories—tethered, wandering.
A woman once, a child—my own,
Left behind, unloved, unknown.

Time moved on, and so did I,
Marriage came, beneath a clearer sky.
Children bloomed, unaware,
Of silent roots I didn't dare share.

My wife, she knew—brave heart, deep soul,
But bore the weight without control.
Not from my lips, but mother's eyes,
And siblings' tongues, came the old replies.

I never told my children so—
Was it shame, or fear they'd go?
Was it duty to unveil the past,
Or just a choice I never asked?

Years went on, and one day came,
A daughter paused upon my name.
She'd known for years, yet turned her head,
Denied the truth she'd silently read.

But now at fifty-one, she stirred,
Moved by a memoir's quiet word.
Mya's story broke the seal,
Uncovered wounds I thought would heal.

Does she seek to mend, to test, to know—
To validate what's long ago?
Or is it pain that still resides,
A daughter lost between the tides?

I ask myself, in silence deep,
Which truths are mine to hold or keep?
Is telling them an oath to bear,
Or just a wound I ought to spare?

But love, I've learned, must walk through flame,
Not hide behind another's name.
And if she asks, I will not lie—
For silence too can make hearts die.