Caring For Conviction

My conviction lays in pieces on the floor. 

Trying to piece it back together, 

I search for my will. 

I find my pencil.

Found it.

 

My heart unburdened, unchained, 

Flows into my instrument. 

The effort taxes me 

As emotions reverberate. 

My convictions start gluing back together again. 

I am pleased.

 

The energy bursts out, 

I sense the sun, the star, 

In all of its glory. 

My will says it’s done. 

I put the pencil down. 

 

I sink back into my chair, comprehending

My art. 

The words reflect a transience 

Comparable to those explosions in our cars, 

And like those explosions, 

The transience runs me forward. 

 

My conviction, I feel it, caress it, embrace it. 

It’s been too long. 

Let’s spend the rest of our lives together. 

I’ll help you and you’ll help me. 

Our journey won’t know what hit it.

 

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