Poetry Of A Journalist

Stove Burners

My soul is a stove and I keep my feelings on their burners.

Anger is kept at a simmer, constantly stirred and monitored to make sure it doesn’t boil over.

Sadness is kept in a skillet a lid carefully covering it, the stirring of the anger pot jostles the lid causing a crack to form.

And the smallest of all, a pan with happiness, hanging on and just barely warm.