Prose and Morals, Lousia May Alcott
I mentally breathe in the musty smell,
The old fashioned comfort,
Like my great grandmother's quilt wrapped around me,
As I tap to open.
The world has gone crazy,
People have lost basic morals,
Societal structure,
Decency to others; I have just been
In the crosshairs.
I read the comforting, 19th century view;
Little women who were strong, where
Tragedy informed character.
Simple vantage, but powerful;
I remind myself how we should act.
LMA's sketches are
A balm of comfort when the world has
Rubbed me raw;
The red strand of morals running through
So anyone can pick up a bit,
And remind themselves of how it should be,
When people respect others.
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