Be the Me That Is He
keepsakes keeping me keeping
deep feelings keeping me weeping
the resulting fatigue and the obvious exhaustion keeping me sleeping
suddenly present is a strange, but appropriately necessary welcome mat
yet i do not wipe my feet on it
yet i do not knock on a door trying to satisfy a perceptive inquisitiveness
i find myself embracing the simple meaning in its most hidden of abstract depth
what i find is that all i had to do is drop the feeble act and just Be The Me That Is He
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