“A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Thursday, July 19, 2012

What Wins in the End?


Stealth anxiety
in harmful undercurrents
prevails covertly.

Unwelcomed unease
I would much rather deny,
vexing its presence.

Hiding self defeats.
Unmasking though hurtful wins
eventually.

1 comment:

Karen said...

I am suffering great unease these days Judy, and though I am trying desperately to deny it...I can't.