What was that little voice in my head saying
All those years ago?
Give up, you are nothing, worthless.
Once I got past that, I could start
What I meant to do,
And some days were better than others.
Others being the ones where the layer
Of static and stuff became too much,
And nothing got done,
Days turned to years, and years
Became decades
And I was unaware.
The only thing I had going for me
Was the will to get up and fight another day.
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