In Need Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

My peace of mind to earn and get.
Took too long to arrive to abandon it.
And those searching high and low with binoculars,
Seeking anyone to pick and start an argument.
Discover from me,
A doing of this returns disappointment.
Since those days of craving negativity,
To actively practice.
And reserved to preserve in excessive quantities.
Are behind me to not miss.

There was a time I visited desperation.
I had visions of being marooned.
A fugitive black slave on the run.
From the West Indies and Guiana.
Back in the 17th and 18th centuries.
And I was not on crack.
Wishing to have a life like that.
But...
Being around folks,
Provoking ill will.
Just for the purpose to have their egos stroked.
They are the ones noticeably in need,
Of mental therapy.
And I am not that one to feed them attention.
That kind of attention,
Is more in need to be quarantined.
Before and not after,
A suspected epidemic is stopped and prevented.
Although...
The symptoms to detect,
May be too difficult to inspect.
Since today...
Who knows who is or is not,
Already infected.