Of All Things Life Changing

Always coming to me as my back is turned

The bliss and pain

The sharp strike of emotion

The blunt trauma of numb

A conveyor belt of events one

Is never prepared for

One after the other

Under the bleak black or

The promising blue

Youโ€™re clutching hands

Youโ€™re clutching roses

Every time handled

With the blind tenacity of a child

The time to panic is when things plateau,

Because change will stalk your every shadow.

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