My husband calls them pearls worn close to my heart.
Would the meaning of each make others tear me apart?

Does this story waiting to be told
have elements to make their heart grow cold?

If I opened up my soul with words to tell
Would their judgment condemn me to hell?

Will their image of my accomplishments change
causing them to look upon me with rage?

Pristine little me the preacher's daughter
would my life story send me to the slaughter?

These pearls I cherish in my spirit
Would they ever stop to really hear it?

Let me muse and wonder out loud
Would my living distance me in their crowd?

It has not all been a crystal stair
I ask the question, would they really care?

This life lived like no other
Will they condemn me, a former teenage mother?

My pearls are a living testament I do not hide.
Does it matter to you that my heart is open wide?


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