Trivial daunting
Light becomes haunting
Life less than living
I feel very guilty
So empty of filling
I’m wanting I’m yearning
I don’t cry. I should cry.
I’m much less more fortunate
My life is ornate
Privileged but burning
Crumbling for upkeep
Passion dwells hazy
In the corners of each eye
Always there but not fully
I can’t ever reach it
Too shy to exist
I must will it
And call it
And yearn
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