There’s no need to rant and rave,
to set fire to the stage,
the show’s come knocking
it’s time to perform,
ill feelings really should be tamed.
There’s misinterpretation in the scenes,
misunderstandings,
certain explanations seemingly misheard or unseen,
and the power in the moments is not
the spat venom nor poison,
but the future mellowing,
the quiet contemplation.
Will I ever reach that path where I am not
in a situation of needs,
in a situation where things feel incorrect,
perhaps time apart is due,
it’s calling,
I feel.
I thought it was possible,
to not completely sever ties,
to retain a friendship
but it seems the truth is not this,
I surmise.
So, fly on high I will,
let the sinking in my stomach be perpetuated nil,
I will rise above the argumentative moments,
we will clear the stage of such scenes,
perhaps, maybe,
there won’t be much left to view,
it may have been all just a breathy dream,
let the angst dissipate from the theatre still,
allow the audience to softly clear the room.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Rob Laughter on Unsplash
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