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Mar 2019
poor tiger
allowing the
fickle whims of life
usurp her grandeur
going with the flow
not going with her fire
allowing the pressure of
the everyday
drive her
further and further
from what God intended her to be
she sees her stripes
her coat majestic
the beat of her heart
her eyes electric
she
now
sees
what
she was
meant to be
she... is me.
Karen Browner
Written by
Karen Browner  F/Wahington, DC
(F/Wahington, DC)   
  176
     PoetryJournal
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