The world is its imperfections;

Never faltering.



Into fixed memories,

The world owes nothing 

In our wake.


A whole becomes astray 

In the midst of 

Transpired afflictions 

And ignorances bliss.


Accept the holes in our aspirations;

When the sun sets 

And the moon shown bright,

We lie awake

Becoming the labrinyths 

We overseek to climb. 

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


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