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Writer's pictureChaimae Beltarchi

Observant and steady

No doubts or regrets do I carry.

Down the road of ''right things'' I have gone, risen yet often and discretely fallen.

And in my final fall, which threw me to what seems to be a bottomless hole, I mourned unprecedentedly, and still I tarry.

Yet in my tardiness have I encountered a hard stone –hard enough to form a bottom,

–a foundation to an adult I have longed to become, yet from where I am, the old me would call quite dreary.

Flawless though she is, I'd describe her as steady.

In her fight against worldview, she is steady.

In the way she stands in that crossroad of violent currents, steady.

Before the one hundred and ten sorts of silent poison each invisible viper induces in her flesh on the daily, steady.

Behind the shallow deep enough to erase the will to seek and evaporate the force to colour the bleak, steady.

The hunt for my entirety, though tragic, still goes on for I'm absolutely incomplete. A human being, you see.

In that road of ''right things'' I have simmered long enough to know they were wrong for me.

Or maybe it's just how growth works, obstacles pave the human irony!

You'll see and feel the change in me:

The tone is Blues and the reactions are Silent, hope you're a fan of these.

The company is family and few old ones, head is a non-regretting life connoisseur that searches for balance between where I'll go and whence I've come to be.

A poem that lacks melody, scrambled thoughts of a doubtful yet grateful calm poet, read and savour my harmony.

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