Benjamin K Duncan
The words of those you love, mean the most.
They can kill all that your spirit imbibes.
But they can not take away your spirit.
This was the message written on the inside of my brain
I would think it every day, thinking it would give me conviction.
I realised someday, by my third coffee that I am a soulless creature.
A mock creation, to entertain an even more misguided creator.
Without words of adoration, and encouragement.
I've realised my problems are exactly like eveyone else's
I realise, I am no more special than my abnomalities.
Which are few.
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Comments about this poem (Eighteen by Benjamin K Duncan )
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