Secrets

If only you knew the place where secrets lay!
One, most obvious, that ever-present cliché:
love may always find a way,
love of money and lust, but neither night nor day.

One rose only to take a walk along the bay,
and give that green money as simple pay
to the young men who, when asked why, would never say
for the shame and money of with whom they lay.

But the other, her love was disarray.
This one sat at home, wishing only to be away,
thinking to be the stalker, but in the end only prey
to those who had but one thing to convey

And so it returned to another loved cliché:
that appearances, of course, appear as they may,
showing the light of a sun's single, golden ray
only to hide the black shadow where secrets lay.