(a poem I wrote yesterday)
For my past is growing dim,
As a novel generation
Presses onward every day;
When in this very pregnant pause
Ambivalence just swells my soul,
And at the point of lost control,
Something has to give.
While much of late has paralyzed
The edge which opens me,
As each decision estranges all
That pulls myself together:
Will maybe some, or maybe none,
Or maybe all gain rest,
Or will I never really know
How torn I always am?
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