My life is gathering dust about my ankles.
Fear is cementing my feet to the ground.
I feel like a tree that’s attached to the earth.
Though, no one that I want is around.
Perhaps, I should worry about something else.
Gather flowers and not tend to the weeds.
Pick out a time and place of my own choosing.
Then pluck the sweet fruit that I need.
Go out and take chances to feel as I want.
Seek out and make love with a passion.
Giggle and laugh and juggle my chips.
Hold them and try not to cash in.
One of a dozen of life’s inner struggles.
Not to be lost and not easily won.
Smile at myself as I know that I can.
Allow and absorb all my sun.
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