Soon
Before I rest I must confess, transgressions of each day
For my mold not perfect, and my way, not clear
I speak in affirmations. Making each task achieved; Complete.
Only then will I close my eyes. Certain they’ve served some need
A wanting hand holds nothing. Forgetful minds, regret
A beating heart, a day’s reminder.
There’s still life, that lies ahead.
Copyright © Teena Tincan | Year Posted 2024
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