Poem: Lingering – 09/07/20

The silence greets me.
The questions which I have uttered are left
their syllables carelessly thrown
to the wind.
It’s not a struggle to have let them go,
in fact, they’re a release,
a moment of crisis,
a catharsis,
and I know, I know,
that not every utterance should be
an emancipation,
but lately, most have been.
What is wanted, what is required? 
Being a poet, I can be selfish, if I decide,
of needs and desires
I need not necessarily deliver.
I can humour myself and my needs alone,
indulgent word fantasies like thickets grown.
But then, where would I be,
with no audience to breathe with,
to greet?
No more morning sparkles and shine,
their visits revealing notifications,
understandings that I’ve created something
that’s cast a modest net,
caused an effect.
Because when I link with my readers,
it’s the most wonderful feeling,
my mission has been successful,
I’ve helped them enter my realm,
how ever grateful am I for their presence
and careful scanning eyes,
your presence encourages me to continue
detailing my pain and paradise.  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.  
Image by Jorge Guillen from Pixabay

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