The Ivy Grows in Silence

The ivy grows in silence,
never noticed, slowly
covering the shutters and walls
beautiful and green,
its tendrils subtle and smothering,
reaching into the cracks and crannies,
bearing the ever growing weight,
slowly smothering,
slowly destroying
all it touches,
a secret murder
that, to all appearances
is anything but.

About this poem

How often do we find that what we felt was the perfect relationship is instead a slow, toxic death? And we are surprised.

Because of the silence.

Tom