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Pity Party
I feel myself being pulled
between two worlds:
a world of rest and peace,
and a world of unrest and war.
I look at each with
an expressionless mind
robbed of its preference
and forced to idle as such
occasionally feeling a stronger
pull towards one or the other,
but hanging nonetheless between
disaster and fulfillment.
watching the tea in the cup
bag bobbing faster as the water color
deepens, waiting for the tempest
hoping caffeine will help
worthless at every turn because
someone else is in control;
wars tearing towns and homes to pieces
while I do what I call writing.
© 2013 Nicholas Emeigh
between two worlds:
a world of rest and peace,
and a world of unrest and war.
I look at each with
an expressionless mind
robbed of its preference
and forced to idle as such
occasionally feeling a stronger
pull towards one or the other,
but hanging nonetheless between
disaster and fulfillment.
watching the tea in the cup
bag bobbing faster as the water color
deepens, waiting for the tempest
hoping caffeine will help
worthless at every turn because
someone else is in control;
wars tearing towns and homes to pieces
while I do what I call writing.
© 2013 Nicholas Emeigh
Notes: This poem was written on February 7, 2007.
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