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Arvel Azcoe
Poems
Oct 2021
Three minutes
Three minutes was all it took.
My opposition halted.
My voice shriveled,
My muscles tensed,
And I stood still.
Poor me.
Weak me.
But I’m so strong, I thought.
I’m so outspoken, I thought.
But no, I just waited.
Patiently.
I apologized.
I APOLOGIZED.
For how uncomfortable it felt.
How inconvenient it was.
Three minutes.
Three. Minutes.
Most would laugh that that’s how long it’d last,
But for me,
Oh, for me,
It was a ******* eternity.
Written by
Arvel Azcoe
Chicago
(Chicago)
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