There is a space inside the heart
That is almost never filled
The emptiness is hungry, yearning
writhing, never still
We try to fill it desperately
With grasping hands we claw
Money, things, people,
The fresh, the new and raw
Relationships we think we know
We covet for our own
Position, lovers, destiny
We dig our hands to bone
That empty space stays vacant
An angry mouth to feed
It craves the simplest filling
The planting of a seed
The fruit of appreciation
That's generated within
The belief that you are something
A prize inside your skin
It cannot be granted by others
No item can fulfill
Generated internally
By strength of one's own will
-a
peace was fleet of foot abandoning sense anxiety, like an angry bee ran stings up my spine my eyes somewhere elsewhere my feet still pointed forth my son grasping elbow's edge he brings me back like gravity places my head squarely onto my neck and i remember there is a reason for my being for my footsteps for my focus i breathe quickly quietly deeply and bring my eyes back to him a
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