(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

It's Okay

Yes.
It is okay.
To make it known you have run out of limits.
Even the ones kept in reserve.
Preserved to think them needed to use.
Have gone.
Not to expect them to exhaust and leave.
The way one day they suddenly vanished.
That last nerve believed could be saved,
Was struck and plucked.
And that ended your tolerance and your
limits.
It's okay.
Nothing to value remains as if permanent.
Or can be guaranteed to forever stay.
And it's okay to say how you feel about it.
Too few are real to admit this.
Many cuss and fuss and roll their eyes.
Angered by the fact that limits they have set,
Someone they have let overstep their
boundaries.
And they did their best,
Not to blow off steam.
With a keeping intact their precious composure.
But no.
Before they knew it all hell broke loose.
And they were left with no choice to choose.
But to argue.
They allowed their peace,
To be swept right from under their pacing feet.
And it's okay.
You weren't the one to thrown down that
way.

And it is okay.
To sit and have it revealed to see,
Just how some folks can be.
With it okay to keep a distance from them.
Knowing who you are.
Knowing you could be no other way.
Respectful.
But there are those who expect,
Their thoughtless behavior to be accepted.
And these are the ones,
Kept set limits are no longer needed.
From them these limits must leave.
In cases like this,
Rainchecks should not be considered.
When people like this rain on your parade.
With a bringing their on thunder.
While eclipsing your Sun with it done.
It's okay.
Let them have it that way.
But do not permit again,
For someone like this to perceive...
Doing to say whatever they please in your presence.
Give them the gift of your prolonged absence.
And let it be okay if they don't get the message.
As long as you do be through with it.
And it will be okay to know it's okay to do.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

written on the absorbed sense of self and to me something philosophical- Nothing to value remains as if permanent. Or can be guaranteed to forever stay. (in addition -all POET live in the den of pure philosophy!)