Comfort in the midst of Chaos

The world around me is going insane; kids killing kids over something mundane.

Philadelphia, New York and LA it’s all just about the same; because they think it’s a game

I lock myself away from the insanity as I worry about one thing; what bring comfort to me.

Not that I don’t care about the kid who was killed down the block; candles and a teddy bear I placed where she was shot.

Then I go home and turn on the lights illuminating my apartment, my mancave, my life.

A poster on the wall is the first thing I see, a calm rambling creek that goes through a forest of trees.

The air from the vent it hits on my skin; calming the rage that is burning within.

New age music I play on my phone as the sound of windchimes and waterfalls join in the sound

I remove all of my clothing and into the shower I go, I let the hot water hit me as I let out a cry

They say that men don’t cry, but really we do; especially when we’re from the memorial for a girl that was slew

When I let it all out, I say a quick prayer to no one specific; but to get the words out – out of my system

I didn’t know the girl, except for around town where no one could talk bad of her; so why was she shot?

The shower is over, and fresh clothes go on; the music still plays and I add an ancestral drumbeat

The drumbeat is distant, and carries away the pain of the girl who did no harm was shot and was slain

Why do I dwell on this girl who was shot? For the whole story we must back up a bit.

My bus it was late, and I walked down that same street; this girl that was shot, it could have been me

I waited for the bus for an hour and a half; if I was home on time -- it could have been me

I need to stop thinking about it -- I need something to eat; pasta and sauce now that is a treat

What could have been and what was are two different things; I must stop overthinking it, or it will be the death of me

I clear out my mind of the past couple of days of all the bad things in every way; not so I forget what has happened those days

But so it doesn’t overwhelm me as some things they do; and I let the soft music work its magic through.

This apartment as small as it is; is my sanctuary, my safe place, my comfort in the midst of chaos

With my belly full and my mind at rest, I can finally let the events of the memorial to rest

I take one last look at the old poster on the wall I let my mind wander down the creek to see what lies around the bend.

The poster I look at as on my couch I do lay and I drift off to sleep and let the music play; for tomorrow is still another day of chaos.