We all have our deepest darkest secrets. Try to write a poem that encompasses one of your own without actually telling the reader what it is. Here's a riddle to get you goin: Sometimes I feel as if I were a secret. That when I am out, there are eyes to judge my appearance. That when I am spoken, there are ears to misinterpret my meaning. And that when I am found, I am more than likely to be disliked. What am I?