Categories: Blogs and Thoughts, Poetry
We get to love another day.
Swype words into Auto-correct that we can blame for typos
We get to write again.
We get to drink water and beer
It’s a gift to feel this,
Even when it hurts.
When missing is more answer than question.
We get to pine,
And celebrate when it’s not all for naught.
Reciprocity is a gift
Learn to cherish.
Even when not even
There is a joy in being the odd one out
Being able to feel
Being free enough to choose to be numb.
We are not dead yet.
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