May 25, 2021
Though not under the thumb of Ceausescu,
I feel oppressed and concerned just the same.
Lately I feel a need of a rescue,
For reasons I can’t easily explain.
I do not live in a third world country,
Survival is not a constant concern.
I sit under the shade of this one tree,
Feeling a lack of security return.
The “what might be” looms heavy upon me,
And the other shoe is about to drop.
The future is not something we can see,
And I need this constant worry to stop.
My one relief is knowing I have friends,
But what if I am forgotten in the end?