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Loss

Losing my soul

I feel it slipping through my fingers

I forget sometimes how to hold a pen

I remember the difficulty in breathing

 

Losing my grip

I watch my hands turn blue

I hate the way I methodically complicate things

I love my inner self, the one I cannot show

 

Losing my faith

I sense the itch in my feet to move forward

I see my life and all the paths ahead

I blind myself to the fortunes I could have 

Author notes

Written on 1st August 2007 at 00:13 GMT

This is the first poem I have written in months. I took it from a mixture of a couple of challenges given to me in my contest: secrets about me and writing in the moment

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