Hot Coals
i shuffle my feel
and look down once more
i mumble and fumble
and tumble down holes
my self esteem
settles uncomfortable on hot coals
yes sir, yes madam,
i will not do it again…
my basic program activated
with simple voice commands
i am a fragile me
on the most simple demands
i feel the hurt
ripple through me
as the need to feel sad cranks up
and the old films of my own life
suddenly start playing
i tell myself
it is only words they are saying
i nod my head
i except my place, lose the like,
i had started to trace
i find my confidence,
and put it back into a distance case
i sense personal embarrassment
James Garratt – May 2018
Hot Coals
The Boy Behind The Glasses. Poetry and Writing 