Once upon a Twenty Two.
Two decades,
And first couplet years.
I never dreamt of this year before I understood,
The meaning of adulthood.
The meaning of life.
This season is incomprehensible,
Others had a definition.
A definition easily understood,
A meaning worth remembering.
En ce moment,
I am hooked.
In fact,
I’m full.
Not the contented one.
So full that I can explode soon.
Distraught,
Foreboding,
Current despair,
Others yet to be developed.
An angry weather is far better.
It rages till we plea for it to stop.
At least,
It brings hope of the soothing sun.
Here I write,
Still trusting that my words find comfort.
I ask Our Father.
He listens.
I was told He does.
But I fume.
Tell me why?
A response is far from me.
So far a stretch that I have grown far from hearing Him.
Reason is, “No answer.”
A soul can’t fathom all it goes through.
No, it doesn’t.
But what can the heart do?
What can the soul still hold on to?
Still wail to His Father,
And hope He forgives him.
Find compassion in his plight,
And save him from imminent reproach.
He prays this on a daily.
That’s a lie!
His focal point blurs.
His intentions are a lie.
His fear creeps in and feed on him.
He remembers his plight,
Runs to his mind and dwells for seconds that counted hours.
An escape from this nightmare.
One of his couple coping mechanisms.
Ahh!! A mild relief.
Tomorrow and every other day.
It holds pleasant and unpleasant surprises.
I don’t know much but this much,
I know.
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