An Anecdote [revised] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

The Duchess bit off my head when I told her I worried about her,
and conversation died a terrible death; my guru said – trust that
your loved ones are safe, I wonder if he meant even if you see
them carrying explosives while playing with fire? But meddling
is not allowed. She’s always made to be the evil one The Duchess
remarked bitterly, enjoying her self-pity, while I had the privilege
of biting my tongue

Looking at ashes of great expectation wondering where it went
wrong I am skipping meals and nibbling on chocolates, drinking
too much coffee, being brutally honest trying to make mother
understand she is a great pianist but painting is not her thing;
vehement opposition to realism taught me some people need
to dream – I have no right to meddle with their illusions even if
they make fools of themselves

Right now I need uncover and face the unnamed terror so as
to overcome its power to keep me in mental manacles, by this
time I know our inner gyroscope always turns things upright
again as soon as the sun comes out – and darkness becomes
an anecdote…