Progressively Worse - Poem by Benjamin Feliciano
I've been thinking that it's hard to define progress.
I've moved out, grown up, and moved on.
I'm working, buying, and producing
At a rate faster than ever before;
And yet I'm still shivering.
What holds more promise, comfort or creativity?
I recall the days I had time to waste,
Now all I keep wanting is more.
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The Road Not Taken
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