Comfort

22 Mar

I don’t have to write poetry to open up. I don’t have to seek refuge behind obscurely pronounced words. I don’t have to fly high and I don’t have to be closeted. I don’t have to be swift and I don’t have to be slow. I don’t have to chase and I don’t have to run. I only have to face the midday’s shining sun.

I don’t have to be crowned and I don’t have to be estranged. I don’t have to be released and I don’t have to be engaged. My sentences may rhyme but you see, I don’t care. My pains, my desires, don’t have to be staged.

You don’t have to realize and you don’t have to apologize. What comfort would it bring me, when my heart still cries? What comfort would it bring me, when my heart still cries… when my heart still cries… when my… heart… still cries?

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