Breather

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Word is the key to all the locks they say

The power of pen, the skill of oration

But there is one that is much detested

“It is but full of cowardice” they say

 

 “Remove it, reduce it, it is but a farce”

But is it not a refuge when sane words are sparse?

When all want peace but none brings it

When things are fired, matter or word,

 What space exists to hold it all in?

 

 

The troubles remain, unmoved, unchanged

The earth rumbles, it moves deranged

The trees wane, all turns to hay

The races have trembled and teetered away

 

“Fight, fight, fight” they say

“Don’t give up hope, survive the day”

But sometimes the world is too much to bear

Sometimes you just don’t wish to care

 

“Don’t go there, in reality stay”

Yet I walk away a moment each day

Peace may not always be a battle to win

I escape from this raucous din

 

Give me a moment, a second to breathe

Let me first imagine some peace.

 

In response to the DAILY PROMPT

 
Imaginary
Poetry

 

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