How I’m drawn to my trauma.
To get ravaged by the drama.
These results – out of my hands.
Yet I’m captured on demand.
It’s not my game, not my life,
These displays of global strife.
My emotions, those are mine.
But they ignite on a dime.
Turning petty, I confess,
Wielding crudeness and obsessed.
I don’t like the way this goes.
Show me truth with some repose. . .
Worry not of these events.
Look at what they represent.
They represent how you’re disturbed.
It’s a response that can be curbed.
Get a hold on your reaction.
And these events will lose attraction.
Your circumstances will not matter.
And your grace will not be shattered.
There’s relief in this poise.
There’s a song in this noise.
You are close, you are near it.
Let it play and you will hear it.
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