A storm within small confines,
a sudden squall of frustration.
Words become weapons,
kicking and flailing against
the unyielding world.
A raw eruption,
of needs unmet,
of powerlessness felt.
The face contorted,
tears a salty flood,
breath coming in ragged gasps.
We watch, sometimes helpless,
sometimes impatient,
forgetting the bigness of their feelings.
A desperate language,
spoken without vocabulary,
a plea for understanding.
It passes, as storms do,
leaving behind a fragile calm,
and...
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