Fast as a subway train,
Tears are held because people can see,
Though they don’t know your name,
What right do you have even to complain?
There were no guarantees,
Naked you’re born and you might be again,
Once again you will get up from your knees,
Unless you wish to deny all you know,
Which is not very much,
But of such import you’d claw your way up,
Just to know that you could touch,
The ones you love,
So they know you’re alive,
Only because you want the best for them,
Though what you did for yourself’s not enough.
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