Our words are always fickle,

Our feelings never settle.

Aiming to please our sickle

Hearts that have no mettle.


Give me wisdom so I will not meddle,

To know my place among the those who fondle

Love as a bundle 

Of wishes that forever, never dwindle.


Give me patience so I will not tussle

With roaming hearts that love to stumble.

My numbness will make me grumble,

But the firmness will leave me humble.


I know now why I am no hurdle.

The loose ones do need a handle,

To hold onto, they are more fragile,

I let them know that they are agile.


But I too have ways to settle.

To move east when refused as a handle.


One learns words hold no valour

And ignores those who speak of honour




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I am me. I am Me. I write when I want to be free.

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