one hour
I would like just one hour of peace. One hour, and i would consider it a wealth of riches. To do as i will, think as i like, silence, contentment, and peace of mind. Well-being and utter joy. Not one ounce of boredom, not a smidgeon of anxiety, no stress, no tension, no angry thoughts. No voice but my own, no demands for my listening ear or for my bravely, barely painted-on smiles.
For just one hour, i do not want to have to worry about other people’s feelings or plans or needs for attention. I do not want to be the one maintaining the cheerful outlook, the one tolerating the moods or demands, the one whose doors wide open, though truly i have no doors.
Just one hour, where i can quietly think my thoughts and develop ideas, perhaps draft an entry for this ill-kept journal.
For just one hour, i do not want to have to worry about other people’s feelings or plans or needs for attention. I do not want to be the one maintaining the cheerful outlook, the one tolerating the moods or demands, the one whose doors wide open, though truly i have no doors.
Just one hour, where i can quietly think my thoughts and develop ideas, perhaps draft an entry for this ill-kept journal.
