Tired…
…of starting again with hope,
when life is at its end.
…to pretend it’s never too late,
when I know it is.
…to climb in search of a sturdy rock,
when I know I walk on shifting sands.
…to smile,
when my heart cries.
…to pretend I’m strong,
when I’m weak inside.
..of looking alive,
When I’m dead.
Most of all, I am tired of an obsessive thought:
Do they not know,
or do they not care,
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