It Will Be Okay Poem by Eva Polak

It Will Be Okay



The seat upon the floor, the scent of a red rose. Say a word of trust, say a word of reprise. High hands towards a sky that cries tears. Say a word of a reprise, feed the hope, this is the only imperative I would like hearing in a chant of amazing voices. The feast is on. The feast is on. It will be okay!

Thursday, November 25, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: hope,red,rose,sky,tears,trust,voices
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