Worry

It’s late in the night,
My brain’s in full flight,
I’m aching and weary and spent,
My mind’s run afoul,
Of the passenger’s scowl,
Anxiety’s full of lament.

So let’s take a breath,
Where the ocean has depth,
My boat floating anchored off shore,
Where bitter decline,
Is a race against time,
And worry is flooding the floor.

It’s past or it’s future,
The wounds barely suture,
Before the scab’s bleeding and raw,
There’s ripples in time,
Where I blanket my rhyme,
And bandage the feelings once more.

There’s definite caper,
Emotions will taper,
Before they boil over to rage,
It’s fire and ice,
But an infinite slice,
Has my soul contemplating it’s page.

To brace for contusion,
Within life’s illusion,
My sanity gripping it’s rope,
Has got me thus far,
With a few battle scars,
My greatest defender is hope.

And hope it shall be,
As I fight to break free,
Of the hideous torment we speak,
Where silence cuts loud,
Through an unending crowd,
Of bitterness, scalding the weak.

So forge me a shield,
I’ll be eager to wield,
Where negative thoughts are benign,
And be so forgotten,
Those souls who were rotten,
They simply aren’t worthy of rhyme.

© The Complicated Bunny – 12 Sep 2021