Comfort

Comfort these days is but a pretentious play

A utopian dream, a mythological state of being

For if my comfort bestowed your discomfort

Where was comfort gained?

A gain for a loss still equals nil

Until we see this spectre

Comfort will not be real

Just a matrix of illusion, perhaps even delusion

Balance must precede the comfortable shield

For balance is the equaliser of life

And comfort resides in truth not lies

-Camille Delaquise

This poem appears in RISE, Camille’s second contemporary poetry collection. Comfort reflects on the false promise of ease built on another’s suffering — suggesting that genuine comfort cannot exist without balance, honesty and a more equal reckoning with how we live alongside one another.

This poem is available as a contemporary poetry print on textured recycled card.