It's Going To Be Alright Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

It's going to be alright. I know how small
a slice might feel, but assuredly it'll heal.

I watch the wind. I taste the air. Enjoying
the sensation of being alive, of being able

to think of pleasant situations. Expectations
leads to resentments. Better to accept each

person on his or her own level. Not to expect
that they match my defintions, but instead

that they are who they are and that I am
what I am. Together we make up the world.

I kick a stone with my feet. It dosen't hurt.
It only moves to the next anticipation. I am

as tall as I'll ever be. Each molecule that
suggests my form is all the man I need to

feel. It's going to be alright. There is surely
a purpose to every dissapointment. I may not

understand the process, but I will enjoy
the end result. I lick my lips, quietly enjoying

the taste of me on my tongue. I am not the
devil. I am not God. I am only as much in

pain as I allow myself to be. Some people
might walk by and ignore the living I am

displaying. That is their choice and I respect
their opinions. Others might stop and share

a word or two. We will have a conversation.
Time will pass and the day will roll on, and

another part of living will me to stand free.
It's going to be alight. I'm still smiling.