It is calm here at the eye of the storm.
While outside my extremities are raging.
Muscles taut, eyes bulging, body shaking,
Beset by thoughts of hurricane force pain.
I can laugh at the fool the world sees
Lying forgotten, within this calm place,
That the storm cannot touch.
For I know the fool is not real.
For I know he is not me.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Originally Published: 14 February 2015