Balance

Swaying like
a drunk weaving his way home,
I veer between the level pavement of truth
and the deep ditch of kindly
hypocrisy.

Mud on my left shoe,
a clean shine on the right,
my soul freed, only to be stifled
and freed again, while I stagger –
hanging on to what matters
as I balance the colours
of motherly love.

.

©Jane Paterson Basil

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16 thoughts on “Balance

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