Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Delaney D. Ding

The itch, a fiendish dance, a battle’s cue,
I yearn relief, evading its pursuit.
A tormentor relentless, peace it steals,
Magnifying pain with a thousand tiny feels.

Oh, tranquil reprieve, I plead and yearn,
Escaping this eternal itch’s burn.
Yet in discomfort’s embrace, I’ll find,
Strength and patience, a grace redefined.

Through itch’s grip, endurance takes its stand,
Life’s challenges obscured by its demand.
With steadfast gaze, I face this test,
In struggle, growth, resilience manifest.

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