i'm no t.s. eliot, but I doodled it in a meeting today

[skyra123]

(a very boring meeting)

the sparking in my brain, and still the mouths are moving
claiming pain, and pain, and pain;
and all the kids-grown-older are slumbering again;
another day, another meeting and we're slumbering again.

...

my life indeed is like the sea,
flows in and out so prettily;
and I say all that can and be
can be traced back to evening sea.

...

I now know why i've come together,
do not tremble at the weather
(cold and brutal in this place);
why i have escaped the tether
of mental illness; such (dare I say?) calamity --
is, was, will always be a tragedy --
for everyone involved --
dodged it happening to me...
(I fear that thought to be
a bit insensitive.)

I might have power to aid
those whose parts are overplayed --
those exhausted mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers --
and all the others whose songs go unsung --
the kids themselves, so overstrung --
frustrated -- tired -- the tension in their shoulders.

i am no soldier.
it's hard to say what to do now.