stuck

Every time I get close
to that smooth pane of acceptance
to face what will inevitably come
(or more likely not)
I notice
specks of hope
smears of expectations
I’ve tried to wipe them away
with focused questions
scrub them with harsh reality
using the grit and grime
on my hands
to etch them into
some perceptible form
that can divert me
from that subdued path
laid plainly out
beyond

prompt – Subdued  

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