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Oct 2019
I never clasped hands tightly,
        as all I got was pins & needles.

Showing me that everything I prayed
                             for was just a numbness,
  
                             of ill prepared needing.

I heard every word that needed
                       my vocal assistant.

Not realising that I was the one that
  needed to answer my own wishes.

               Every request was a promise,
                      to myself to make myself better.

I'll never apologize for my ignorance,
                but ill build on my failings,


              and I'll build higher than the


                                  ignorance that

kept my hands shackled.

   Not realising that I needed

to grasp higher than the blindness of
  never reaching higher than hands clasped
Poetic T
Written by
Poetic T  On Oblivions Doorstep
(On Oblivions Doorstep)   
182
     AS and Poetic T
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