Beata Kanter

The Courage of Control

She hears the words replay,
Echoing in the caverns of her mind.
And every time she hears him say,
“There is hope, you need to try.”

The wind is blowing harder.
Her auburn hair is flying,
Or rather trying hard to fly.
But all her hope is dying.
Just as her locks can’t get away.

She turns and there he’s standing,
No longer in her mind.
The image she refused to see
Was there, she couldn’t hide

What’s there to say when time stands still?
When tongue’s get twisted cold?
What can a hand reach and hold,
When space is frozen uncontrolled?

She faced his glazed expression.
She looked him up and down.
And finally, she decided
To breathe, and turn around.




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