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she sits on the floor
crosslegged
trying to calm
her mind
as she cannot decide
whether she really
is a poet
or just imagining
to be a poet
her life
has become
meaningless
and full of
boredom

but maybe
her life
never had any
meaning and
excitement

looking
at her life
she notices
her constant
fear to engage
I look at her
and realize
that she cannot decide
when it is appropriate
to stop supporting others
and begin supporting herself
tomorrow will bring
a new and better day
she thinks full of hope
and decides to fall asleep
late at night
and cold
sitting up in bed
awake
loud and doubtful
thoughts
thoughts
dreams
confusion
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