Aug 26th 1 min read poetry
My cursor blinked repeatedly in the dark of the night
My mind was empty as I searched for an idea to burn bright
Would this be my last poem, I dread
Could my tenacity wear out, I fret
So I recalled the events of the day
It was generally quiet I would say
Someone hollered because things did not go her way
I stayed calm and tried to make her stay
She walked out on me and said never again
I left her to simmer down to become sane
The next day, she regained her composure
Obviously embarrassed for her unexpected hysteria
I am glad that I had remained at ease
Not knowing what had broken her peace
I am glad that I had not joined the fray
Or we would not be connected today
Everything that happened could become a story
Don’t feel despair, don’t feel sorry
Look around and notice the haste
Life must still go on at one’s sweet pace.
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