In the Lest of Composure
There's a time that comes every now and then,
When one must sit and shut tight both eyes,
To hold back a deluge of welling tears,
To maintain that happy workplace disguise.
More often than not we curse such changes
That strike the core of our comfort zone,
And usurp our minds of its security
To leave us speechless and very much alone.
But despite these feelings that one may bare
It is a fact that life is exactly that:
A destined journey of constant changes
That can switch course at the drop of a hat.
No matter how hard it may slap one's face
With a force never before known to be,
This reality of your sure departure still seems
Like a daydream fantasy.
In the lest of composure one can
Manage a pair of arms separate with much caution,
But in the manner of a bird from a nest,
Or an eager child into a winter snow,
There are times when utmost love can be shown
In the simple action of letting go.
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