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Rather not

Sometimes I catch a glimpse

Of who I have become

And I hate it.

I hate this part

Where between right and wrong

I stay paralyzed,

Unable to make a choice

Because fear and insecurity plague me.

I don’t want to feel. 

I really don’t want to feel.

Feeling makes me do things

I rather not do,

Be things I rather not be.

And I rather not be

If the person I glimpse in the mirror

Is who I am meant to be.

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Soul

There is something poetic about a pure soul, for it has the ability and strength to hope beyond hope.  It’s not jaded nor burdened with the sins of the commoner, too plagued by shame to hope for better days.

A pure soul hopes and prays that the jaded soul may once again find its way, while the jaded soul worries that the pure soul may one day feel the hopelessness that drove it astray from the path in the first place.