At the Hampton,
Note, no S at the end.
An elderly couple sat,
Self-made waffles and conversation.
The man expressed discomfort,
Seated below a vent and cold.
His wife’s sympathetic ears heard,
And her quick response was pure gold.
She suggested her long, feminine scarf to tie about his neck.
“It’ll take the chill away, you better believe.”
He paused for only a second,
Before he gladly agreed.
Many other guests
In the Hampton without the S,
Were busily bustling.
And he, the chilled man sat warmly dressed,
In his wife’s long, feminine, scarf,
His wife fashionably tied.
Eating with plastic fork and knife,
No concern over onlooking eyes.
A beautiful freedom, laying pride aside!
She holds it all inside,
The hurts and fear she feels.
Slave to sustaining appearances,
A false smile offered to conceal.
Reaching out is weakness to her,
Established in her destructive strength.
Alone in a world she keeps at bay,
Within herself she continues to sink.
Her insides stew, destined to escape,
Without her approval or permission.
Unable to maintain her hiding,
In the depths of emotional oppression.
In fury, in rage, in lamenting tears,
Hidden no more, is what’s inside.
Control was simply a cruel illusion,
A consequence of denial and pride.
If I could learn from your mistakes,
And you could learn from mine.
Think of how much easier it would be,
To maneuver through this life.
Instead I feel the need,
To touch the stove myself,
As if the times I’ve been burned before
Lacked the ability to compel.
Compel me to make wiser decisions,
Ones to enhance my journey.
An avoidance of the pain and consequences,
Of learning the hard way.
Perhaps it’s pride that’s the culprit,
The belief it won’t happen to me.
As if I’m somehow different,
“Where you’ve failed, I’ll succeed”.
I pray my deceived thinking,
These detrimental false beliefs.
Can be altered by choosing to learn,
From what other’s mistakes show me!