In My Vicinity

I don’t judge you dear

but rather I just discern

what I allow to enter my

inner circle of concern.

I can only control that

which my hands make.

What others bring into

my vicinity I do debate.

I tired from where I toil

do find rest in a solitude.

Letting some too close is

a battle I’ve often loosed.

I can feel the room small

if too long inside the walls.

Chained to its tall pillars

until certain words I saw.

Share we do little things

peculiar and some known.

I see poetry abound and

feel not in the room alone.

Samson chained I can be,

my soul it says I can hear.

What need I must do now

becomes so crystal clear.

To not be buried by stone,

when my strength returns,

I must remind me of that

what taught me to discern.

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