The beginning.
The calming of thoughts;
the slowing of breath
and counting of moments.
Guidance, repeated.
Restrictions, enforced.
Reserve, spent.
The trigger.
The nagging starts;
the anger smarts,
as the haze descends.
Authority, lost.
Discipline, gone.
Restraint, released.
The event.
The frustration rising;
the stretching of nerve
and shattering of reason.
Rules, broken.
Disorder, unchecked.
Chaos, reigns.
The end.
The brittle breaking;
the discordant noise
and explosive ire.
Control, lost.
© Sara Murray, 25 February 2016
Another fantastic piece, Sara. I love how you explore the stages of control and the eventual loss of it. From a parent’s point of view, this is a fairly accurate account. We all try to harness control of our children, of our day, of ourselves, but sometimes there are days that everything goes off the rails. Thanks so much for hosting another fabulous round of #theprompt! Have a great weekend
I really felt the building loss of control, if that makes sense?!? More wonderful words, beautifully put together as always, Sara.
You have such a beautiful way with words Sara – restrained, yet so abundant. I love how you can really feel the clenching of teeth and the frustration seeping out of this poem! xxx #theprompt
Another great piece of writing Sara – I love how it builds and that the final words are one solitary sentence, as if realisation hits. Thank you for hosting xx
Great piece of writing, great post. I could feel the tension building as I was reading. How do our children have the power to push us to our limits in such a way