The Monster

The Monster

Parts of me

Are not my own

I can see that now

I came into this world

Empty, blank, and trusting

Tumbling through the wilderness

What I can my life so far

I don’t see myself anymore

My eyes hold the story

My legs lead me down the path

My arms have carried many troubles

Whole I am not. Instead

A collection of things

I have picked up along the way

A collection of things

Thrown at me along the way

What will stick with next?

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