Poem: Done

How do you know when you are done?

Is it when the job is done?

Or when your heart ache so bad that it simply no longer hurts.

That is something that is hard to tell

There is nothing more to say

Yet you never know how to stop

You move so fast that you never see the light

Home is never a place to rest

It becomes a place of unease nonsense

Then you realize that the work is not done

So, you ask yourself again when you are done

The answer is not an answer that you want

It becomes the one that you accept

Then when you have given it your all

You will begin again

Then you done

Are you


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