I am a project, sorry
it's my life's trajectory
my birth was a thing of wonder
accidental though it was
I push the result around in a trundle
when I tire, I lay down to sleep
did you know
subsistence is a brand of gauze
wrapped around yourself and belief
is mined at night from a quarry
the remaining pieces of flint
lie there, gray eyes struggling to emit
a sign or decision
uninfluenced by derision
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