The Pleasures Of Discomfort

Today I stood out in the rain

And didn’t wear my hood.

It was frigid and soggy, yes,

But still felt pretty good.

I stood and looked at nothing much

And let the boredom grow

And those tiny discomforts helped

Much more than you can know.

I talked to her at a bus stop

And watched her walk away.

I’m stronger from the fire, now

A pot instead of clay.

And as I walk home in a pair

Of shoes devoid of style

Empty pockets will warm my hands.

My whole being is a smile.

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