From the sated unease
Of generic malaise
To the twisted telophase
Of self-serving “please”
I have sat, and I have endured

From the expectant hope
In the newness of this
To the melancholy kiss
Of neck-burning rope
I have sat, and I have endured

From the truest of self
Living purposefully
To heart crying bitterly
And life on the shelf
I will stand, and my life secure

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