Worry Not

A little restless

A little perturbed

Sans smile and chirping self

Perhaps…

Your intent is not picking up pace

A little blunt

A little hoarse

Your voice belies

Usual texture

Your agitated self

Perhaps…

Is about to explode

A little hurt

A little sad

A quaint reddish hue

On the facade

Hints at soreness

Perhaps you are saddened

Having missed the edge

And need

A bit of assuage

Worry not

If the chosen desires

Do not fruition

Wishes perched on wings

Do not soar

Feel not bad

Nor lonesome

For the horizon will brighten up

To silence darkness

In hours to come.