Embarassment
They act as if I'm too much to handle,an embarrassment, a flighty dolt
But I see so much, so much, so much
Good and bad, the fragility of everything
the bizarre rhythmed brutality of life
laying me down softly and boldly, and
I argue with myself about going or not
entirely engulfed in uneasy dissension
severely grieved with the inability
to commit to a single course, any course
Tears fall freely; I break at the sight
of the sun flickering through the trees
the glorious mottling of light
painted on this old country mile
The music swells as I pull up to the house
I didn't go, and while I feel disappointed
I find great solace in having stolen
those few precious moments of sunshine
I don't care what they think- I'm not theirs
to handle; my madness is mine alone to carry.
Diary by R.W.S.
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Written on 2024-03-14 at 20:55
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