The battle of… you

That tug of war
of you against the world
and all comers
is or the ain’t
the wills or the cant’s
the stand or the cower
the squalor or the flower
the now and then
on these knees
that will never bend.

may blessings of
clarity saturate –
so that my eyes
can see… to grant

not a spirit of whoa
is me
but why not me?

Being still.

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