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Ramon Lavallee Jun 2019
It grinds my bones,
It makes breathing hard,
It won’t go away.
I try to lessen it,
I try to lift it off,
But ‘tis like gum on a shoe.
It grows with each passing moment,
I fear it may crush me.
I don’t know it’s origin,
Nor why it grows,
I only hope I find the source.
I wish to be rid of it.
This weight on my shoulders.

— The End —