Six decades now I have walked this earth.
Never did I think at this point to be dependent
Solely on myself.
Half a decade, now, I have had to assimilate
This through my heart and soul. Yet, ends still
Dangle hurtfully raw
And I still find weighing choices alone
Not pleasant, somewhat easier. Just still miss you
doing it, too
last week was fun, this one hard. Doing things
For the shop, I have driven myself past strength
To bone-tired weary.
It is doing well. Now for myself on this day,
Another choice, give the same attention
Now for myself.
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