I Had a Stressfull Shift at Work
Sometimes nothing really speaksWhat I'm feeling
In the ways I want it to
I could write all the ways I'm lonely
I could sing of all the ways I smile
I could talk about the imbalance
But it all just crumbles on my fingers
This is such a waste
Because all I'm crying for
Is to be read and understood
For this mess of a story
And held and loved
For the way I stick it out
And adored and admired
For how clumsy I am
posted by Unknown @ 11:04 PM
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