I am

Moving, in no particular directions.

I am searching for a meaning.

For a reason.

While my comrades are barely breathing.

For the twist in their inflections.

I am lost within my mind.

I am seeking refuge in its wake.

I am longing for a closeness.

I find comfort in its connections.

Transient wading through disillusion.

I show anger for that which I lack.

I am studied for my brilliance.

Yet denied ownership for the fact.

I am bled to dissatisfaction.

Then I cry with no objections.

I’ve been thrown upon the rack.

Befitting only of perfections.

I am envious of the surface.

Yet lusted after by the able.

I am the result of a mission.

The product of infections.

The growth of a system.

The endorsement of dissections.

I am the pheonix archetype.


I have met this dejection.

Thus with the passing a scroll.

Five years of greatness.

I shall address all those who would deject.

To this place.

I am rejection.

As now I pass on to the next.


This poem is about: 
My country


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