Poem 30

The last poem for the last day never starts like the first poem
So much anxiety has built up and bubbled around neighborhoods
Homes have been broken
No real security has came no stability
I find a way to smile and grease the ashy parts of my body I bathe and forget the day
Prepare for night
What’s to come never comes the way you envision it flashes and blinks
Always turns out good
What’s to come
Has a good part even when it’s ugly
We learn about ourselves
How we are built what we can withstand
The way we bow and break
Under pressure heavy torrents
I pray that the next thirty days bring sunrays to dark cities
Bring warmth to achy bodies and injuries
That we will continue to clasp hands  and rejoice in this life give praise
To something greater than ourselves
I pray for the calm to blanket our wailing souls with comfort.

Thirty thirty out!


About monalisasrandomthoughts

I craft people poems. I laugh out-loud. I love all things. Everything is about order. My movements are chess. Everything to me calculates. I just look like this.
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