and so the world worries on, with stats galore
and my heart catapults with fears I abhor
the truth of the matter is: no one’s the white knight
so let’s pile our hopes, with a flick and a flight
a mood is lippy on a cup of something crucial
a person’s choice of lip shows social preference
hear your red and you’re redolent with riches
touch your pink and you’re prior to other pinches
taste your lip and you’ll experience that fully
see your beaut and you’ll believe you are lovely
smell your grey and you’re grazing something truthful
listen to shade: you’ll touch your wounded core place
my dream of a suitcase comes only with stress
the clothes to fit in are way too excess
tension mounts: I will miss my flight
nausea rises at my timed-out plight
I wake, and I feel bereaved of my stuff
it’s just my fear I will never be enough
he loves her when she’s sweet and juice
she is loved when needy and loose
he takes offence when she doesn’t give truce
she feels tears as he shouts his dues
he takes hold when reaching a sluice
she holds cold, fearing an energy noose
he is truth, she is bruise
she is now, he’s set loose
Fitting together, bit by tiny bit,
this is getting me through.
The notches that link, the bumps that won’t,
the picture that’s slow to reveal.
The colours that work, the shapes that don’t,
the purpose it helps me feel.
Finding meaning in a baffling world
can help an anxious mind to subside.
Yet the notable gaps are there to remind
the work that keeps me alive.
Poem 1 on Day 1 of NaPoWriMo2020 / GloPoWriMo2020