Poem: The Others – 28/02/20

The others watch me lazily,
yet with intent,
from their quiet area of silent judgement,
it is as though I am being assessed for living
and breathing,
such a scoundrel I am,
I must turn the tables,
to impress!
 
Yet why bother
when these individuals are perpetually displeased?
There seems little point in exacerbating the situation
with a further moment that would actually come across as amazing,
divide the divide!
 
Indifferently though, they blink,
what is the generational gap between us three?
nay I bother now for assessment and
tidings which are built upon comeuppance,
because I’ll sell you this: --
the image is quite diseased,
and its feelings explore me from within,
it wants to attack with ease.
 
The virus enters my system,
wreaking, ravaging,
I am now one of them,
how I wish to breathe freely
without a chest full of bricks,
and now I understand the truest meaning
of a vice-like grasp and grip,
I’ll tell you this:
my spirit will go on,
despite the others’ who belligerently sit there,
stroke their chins,
and sip special tea with posh leafed airs.  
 
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

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