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Jun 2014
Own you.
Own things.
Own spaces.
Own desperation.
Exhale. Release.
Pick it up again.
Pick your actions.
Pick the way you say
The way you care is so fragile.
Don't diminished the experience.
Know you place.
Back right, second to last row.
The place where eye contact is a rarity.
Tucked in on comfort and limitation.
Give half *** is all that is asked of here.
Pressure is minimum.
Exemplary is less than effort here.
What are the expectations?
Inhale, move, live in a space.
Space is what you make it.
Classrooms, ballrooms, fields.
Own you.
Own presence.
Own breathe.
Own time.
It's of the essence.
Drop worthless.
Drop loneliness.
Drop perceptions.
Expectations catch you.
Trap door spider.
The shifty silhouette in the corner of the room.
Applying societal pressure on your jugular.
Snap the twig blocking your airway.
Rebel against the flow.
A river of that and this.
White water never felt so sharp.
Leather skin never fails in a rodeo.
Cowboy up.
Own you.
Own identity.
Own pure.
Own reality.
Head high. Heart strong.
Finish up.
Finish through.
Finish what you started.
Too often we don't own ourselves and everything we are worth. This is a poem to challenge that.
JWolfeB
Written by
JWolfeB  27/M/Cairo, Egypt
(27/M/Cairo, Egypt)   
271
   Wanderer
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