In Due Time


Do I wait with my hands tucked under?

Or do I grab a sword and plunge with intent

Do I give process it’s time and space?

Or do I tear apart every word spoken or not

And try to understand what they meant

Should I make myself feared and well known?

Like a bolt of lightning or a furious cyclone

Would it be better if I was like a summer’s breeze?

Something sought after and refreshing

Cool and calm filtering through the trees

Sometimes the dance is maddening

Not knowing right away can turn out saddening

With a simple yes or no

A clear cut sign to either stop or go


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