Image used with permission
I step into your mind
It’s like peak hour.
Cars, trucks, hustle, bustle Why am I here?
Noise deafening
Flashing lights, Why am I here?
Eat, stop, buy, sell.
Sound is a cacophony Why am I here?
Horns blare, screaming voices
It is overwhelming, chaos rules. Why am I here?
I want to run
Flee. Run Michael run!
I turn to step away
Your hand slips into mine,
Your grip is firm
You lean into me.
As your lips brush my ear
You whisper
It’s ok
Stick with me
You’ll be ok.
Your warmth floods over me.
Morpethroad 
🙂 Lovely piece. We all need someone to help us through those kind of moments when we want to escape. Made me smile.
Thank you Anja. Lovely and appropriate comment.
This is such a different attempt and the companionship is endearing
Thank you I appreciate your comment.
I love the format of this poem – the repetition of the question ‘Why am I here?” echoes the way we do ask questions of ourselves over and over again. Sometimes, we need someone else to help us find the answer.
Thanks Freya I’m glad you enjoyed this poem, it does come from the heart.
In between the hustle and bustle of every day life, a hand that holds can be all the calming influence we need. Lovely Summer.
Thanks RM. yes you are so right.
I can just feel the confusion. I think we all feel that so often! I know I do. And oh to have that comforting hand instead of an angry, blaring horn in your face is like the sun after a storm. A really lovely poem!
Thank you Linda. What a beautiful comment you have made.