Poem: Those Few Hours – 22/02/20

If only for a few hours,
I felt stable,
I could attribute it to absolutely nothing,
or I could attribute to it to something new.
Either way, there is significance in the repose I experience,
a chance from the unquiet,
the river that no longer runs untamed,
the stream that moves with whispered breaths,
gentle hums upon the page.
I am now not highly strung, irritated by the smallest stressor,
taking everything so seriously,
or allowing poor behaviour of others run free
in a manner ill and dour.
I do not permit others to speak to me as though I am nothing,
I forcefully admonish, without the wild anger flung about,
designation now of freedom.
I am a cheerful totalitarian today,
nothing will wear me down,
I am neither negatively affected by poor, misjudged humour,
offensive, though it may be.
My addition in my life, I’ll carefully hush the words to you,
may be creating a fictious approach, a solution,
or perhaps something real from me to you.
Either way,
I am cured of the results of insensitive speech which had become,
my amulet,
my strength,
my assessment of the moment,
I can clasp it in my wanting hands.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Melissa Askew on Unsplash

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