What applies to me
Applies to we
And so it goes
For each of us
Applying our parts
To the greater whole?

In that case
I feel the need
To share some things
That pertain to me

As I pause
To listen close
The choir rises
The whole, verbose
I’m drawn to my
Own memories
Of difficult times
And those of need

The similarities
The pattern found in
The chorus of unease

I often ask myself
“That’s where the good stuff lives,”
I’m fond to tell

Out of the draw
Of victim’s hand
The ease to fall
For mechanisms
For cope, I need
But not beyond
If I continue to feed
I’ll not sever the bond
Of the sad story
That plays and grows
In tell-tale glory
And I, morose

Just as we
Found shouting now
Of the collective draw
That we’ve been dealt
Time to move
Beyond the shadow
Aiming our light
At the end of the tunnel

We were born
And we remain
Should we continue
To converse
With the essence
Of all we are

The story builds
A character
Which variety
Is up to her

The call’s to move
Beyond the hill
The call to prove
Our strength and will

Peering into
The horizon
What beauty, what fortune
Could we find there?

What futures await
Our hands’ building
Our minds create
What stories fill them


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