Lesson To Learn
Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?
I never learned to love myself.
I know not how it’s done.
I am so weak in will and mind.
I seek, but cannot seem to find
Something to love–not one.
Or, rather, all the little things
That I can do half-well
Are insignificant, compared
To all my flaws and failings; bared
For every hostile swell.
It’s plain I am not fit to join
The human social realm
I have no mettle to defend
Ideals, myself, much less a friend,
Without a hefty helm.
And still I tremble in my boots
A flimsy paper doll
The people that I thought would last
Abandoned me; that time has passed
They’re gone, I’m lost, that’s all.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
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