But what am I focusing on?

I am only here for a short amount of time; then I am gone…


Gone with the wind, wrestling the trees,  making crisp air for us to breath.

Breath in and out- in and out

Focus up; focus down


How can someone be down to earth; while reaching for the stars?

The stars are what shine bright in the night


Nightly news floods my living room; as the screen is offly bright

The brighter the better, boring isn't in the picture.


Picture this; someone holding hands as their grip suddenly slips.

Slipping, falling, and now hurt.


Hurting from all of this work.

Working towards nothing; hoping for something…


Something I can focus on.


This poem is about: 
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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