Poem: spark

The spark in my eyes have died.

The village that raised me has wash away.

I cannot speak into the things that do not exist.

I keep trying to prove that I have it all.

Yet I have none of it.

I do not care for it.

I just cannot care for me.

I sit in agony worried about the things that have change.

While not working on the things that have can be change.

I just do not know where to begin.

I just know where to end.

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