Agitation, doubt and fear,
To which nature agrees
As the weather
Is filthy!
Steely grey clouds
Loom over the city,
Darkening the sky
And oppressing the mind,
The driving rain
Peters out to drizzle,
Leaving behind
A mucky mess,
How similar
To the state of mind
In which I awoke,
And which I cannot shake,
How not to identify with this
Becomes the difficult task,
‘What of it?’ cries the voice of doubt,
‘What good is this doing!’
‘Try it and see,’
Comes the helpful reply
But it’s too weak
And the enemy is strong
And so,
I resort to writing,
Which at least
Gets my mind onto something else for a while
And gradually,
As I engage in this process,
The butterflies of fear gather together
And begin to fly in close formation.
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