The Last Control

Living Poetry visual prompt


Grief hit me
like a gust of wind
on a clear day
I couldn’t see it coming
stumbled to survive
another blow

I knew it was you
full of energy
charged with rage

Was that to laugh
at my boring
and simple life
or to stir me to anger

You don’t get to
dictate my emotions
anymore
We were done
when you sinked yourself
in the lake
just to have the last say

Author: Cassa Bassa

🇦🇺🇨🇳 inquisitive, observant, witty, a thinker, was a misfit child 😊

11 thoughts on “The Last Control”

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