Your world will feel like a construction site,
workers wandering the areas with intent,
lifting, hauling, attaching, installing,
ensuring that progress is made,
this is why they’ve been sent.
They are making certain that changes are timely,
are attractive,
and according to the plans for the one who is paying,
and you, you, my friend,
are the one plotting with paper and pen,
are these alterations what you’ve asked
for from these women and men?
It can be so hard when you allow others in to tinker
and touch sections that need progressing
but are sensitive because you have this thing
in which the way they already are,
you cherish them,
and your mind, your heart,
the pit of your stomach,
they all react in some such way,
and then presently, these sites are becoming works of art,
with the final touches they are made to apparent perfection,
any more than if you could have left them?
Did you really need to bring in subcontractors to mess
with what already was?
Weren’t you enough before you were meddled with willingly,
because you felt you weren’t enough?
Or are the changes so right, correct, what were needed to
brighten the heart’s sorrows, your intellect?
Your world may be a construction site,
but you permitted the work to be performed upon it.
©2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash
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