the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 347 – Rising Heat

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If I were to be defined, I would be cautious, combined with
Countless gray hairs, stressful minutes hours days, and a cup of insanity.
Stubborn should be inscribed into my own definition on some occasion.
But why should I admit my flaws if I am always right?
I am always right, I know what is best for me, and I don’t need to listen.
My body is fully capable of functioning on less-than-normal sleep schedules.
Partnered with no caffeine for fuel, it is a wonder that I am alive.
Yet, if I were to be defined, it would be vulnerable.
At the most inconvenient of moments, I shall be struck by adverse immunity.
Charged with an immune system at its breaking point,
I am the one to break down. I push myself, but once it comes to
Caring for my physical and mental health, I struggle.
If it were not for the patient ones who look after me,
There would be no way to scare away my fever.

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