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Rated: E · Poetry · Contest · #1095629
for a contest a jealous object
I feel the power of him inside me...
and I rage against it.

He is the one who made me as I am now,
it is he who holds the power.

Such potential here within my grasp,
yet I cannot take it.

He has a family, status, he's ALIVE.
My family have gone, I am just a thing to him.

He has power to fight back.
I had only the power to flee.

He has a home, which I now lack
He has the strength to be.

He conquers all, he and his kind.
I am his shoes, that once were alive.

Oh, to be him, in his wonderful world.
To be the hunter, a new life unfurled.

I hate him for what he is,
Yet want to be him and have what's his.

He has the power, almost always he wins.
And I'm just his old pair of moccassins.
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