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Endless Journey Beyond


From the Dearth with Passion
I write and I write of love, life and aspirations
Yet I fail on the forefront of poverty and compassion,
I miss the fueling rage that guides her,
Yet I feel her.
Her words come out sharper than the knife
that people use in the dearth of extreme poverty.
Blunt knives have no meaning
Yet the blunted hands wounded in such gruesome duel
To satiate a half filled stomach
Write words that speak volumes
louder than any writer stuck
in the midst of mid life crisis to find inspiration
in their new found life.
I write of life, mid life compassionate strife
And a weary way to passionately write,
But I fail on this forefront,
I am a knife, could I be sharpened
or just end up being blunt
like the way I am right now.
This fuels my passion,
I strive for more,
I yearn till my mind is sore,
 
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