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With groggy eyes I glanced outside my window. It was early morning and the street was deserted below. Sleep had somehow evaded me the night before. The desire to mould my future forces my mind to work overtime. I have forgotten how to relax and switch off at night. Unknown fears drown my mind all the time. Below, I saw a vagabond, unaware of where he was lying. He slept more peacefully than me. His needs were probably less than mine. He was like a rolling stone who gathered no stress. Whereas my expectations offered resistance. Preventing me from going with the flow, in acceptance. Though our needs are few, our expectations can become too many. As I looked away, I wondered whether I should pity him or me.
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Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 9:59 AM UTC
The Vagabond
With groggy eyes I glanced outside my window. It was early morning and the street was deserted below. Sleep had somehow evaded me the night before. The desire to mould my future forces my mind to work overtime. I have forgotten how to relax and switch off at night. Unknown fears drown my mind all the time. Below, I saw a vagabond, unaware of where he was lying. He slept more peacefully than me. His needs were probably less than mine. He was like a rolling stone who gathered no stress. Whereas my expectations offered resistance. Preventing me from going with the flow, in acceptance. Though our needs are few, our expectations can become too many. As I looked away, I wondered whether I should pity him or me.
The more your expectations the more are your troubles
RhymingArt
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Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 9:59 AM UTC
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