Tiffany Rose Moczydlowski
Storm clouds hover in the distance,
A prelude to pain.
Crossing the threshold,
Doesn't fail to send me reeling again.
Sharp winds cut through the room.
Words are uttered that you hate.
'Ms. Benett, have your daughters
Changed their minds? '
'No, Your Honor, they still
Do not wish to see their
Security guards surround you,
The judge looking wary.
My fragile umbrella blows away.
Obscenities spew from your tongue.
The air with electricity hums.
A desk overturned...
The storm emerges.
A stampede of men retreat-
Thunder claps loudly.
An attempt to escape your rampage.
Terror strikes me.
Tears overcome me-
Rain attacks the vicinity.
Takes ten armed cops
To detain you, your wrath.
I'm escorted out the back,
The date's rescheduled- -
I won't be prepared
Even though I already have
That day's forecast.
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