Just a Walk Away

Inside worn and weathered walls, Nobles and commoners Gather and share In the field of rosiness. Together, they are Composed, well organized. Each one partaking in blind optimism. Knowing truly, that The odds prevail. Uneasy My eyes penetrate The bleached and waxen folds Of my buttoned-up, grown-up gown. Cascading, suffocating The pale, coarse mesh Chafes and bites my skin. Two perfectly fitted pearls Glow and twitch As I stand rooted, Unwavering. The train, ready for action, Playfully courts the dusty stone. And I rehearse and cling to The delicate sensibility that “I am doing the right thing.” “I am doing the right thing.” Anxiety flourishes and Doubt ripens under my tender care. The thick fruit thrives After months of incubation. Nimble fingered, truth Is busy, eagerly Fusing and wiring herself to my soul. Driven, she hails my attention. Waving, She wiggles her little fingers at me And with a barbed and knowing glare, She pleads with me from afar. Willfully, I repeat my mantra. “I am doing the right thing.” “I am doing the right thing.” Faithfully, The rancid chorus begins. I flinch, and flaunt my hollow smile. The train sways, Excited for life. Breathless I stand anchored, Clutching a condemned bouquet. I survey the waiting rabble. Scowls, scrutiny, scorns. Dusty brittle hair, Spectacles and flowery hats, Moving back and forth In unison. A mutual nod of disapproval. The gasps and murmurs Trickle and ooze Through the blurry layers Of the jaw dropped gapers. I can see him now, Green eyes searching Wild with fear. My paper coat unravels, He sees me. He knows. Praying, holding on, He pushes forward. Crunching, crinkling underfoot Painfully, Pressing onward. He is just within reach. Shaking, I touch my fingers to my lips And I turn And walk away. Joyfully she whispers “You are doing the right thing!” “You are doing the right thing!”