Walked a familiar fetid track
you too choose never to look back
in your minds eyes- when you were inferior
when ignorance was bliss; gullibility superior
realizing the vanity of garish puerile passion
you'll forgive yourself, turn it into compassion
let it not let go, let go , let go, let go
but the cocoon and presents you must throw
you must let you, let you, let you, let you be
preserved or crucified- the phoenix must rise
you’re given no promises -fake or otherwise
but the ones you make to yourself; or failed tries.
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