Poetry

THAT FEELING…

With a broad smile on my face I woke, thankful for a brand new day, ready to delve into my sonorously glamourours to do list.

My emotions on the high side, I committed myself from one activity to the other, ready to meticulously snatch every second from the hands of laziness.

Then that moment, the turn around of the events, the disintegrator of the orchestra, the Singleton diverger of my cargo.

Sad because I didn’t think I deserved this twist, worse because I had really defensive answers and explanations, enough to grant me a heartwarming apology, worst because I couldn’t say anything to defend myself.

That feeling when you are talked down at, especially by someone who has power, directly or indirectly over you.

Someone you could talk back at if the tables were turned, someone you wouldn’t mind keeping your peace for in an external setting, someone whom you could have cared less about.

That feeling that puts a wedge in your way, tilting your emotions to the direct opposite of their former position, making you sink into stupor in the cold arms of solitude, listlessly devoid of every ability to do anything for yourself.

In the midst of that feeling, with the notion to always respect your elders, what do you do?