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She was a mix
of desires, cloudy thoughts
questions spoken, some unexpressed
feelings trapped in her heart,
its beat a rapid thud.
Life, a running target she chased.
It varied, at times a camouflage of happiness,
then stark truth of pain,
when she clenched
to what she was forced to let go.
She's more relaxed now.
Wonders if youth ever really did believe
that age and wisdom are synonymous.
She still doesn't know what she doesn't know.
Truth is she still wants to be visible, heard.
to laugh, cry, sing, dance,
dive into air in spite of the bumpy landing,
for that proverbial ride
that needs only love to increase
not velocity but volume,
the capacity to recognize happiness
then uncloak it, hug it naked, raw to its essence.
All this, before the end of the turbulence.
(Submitted to Poets United.)