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I do not need a god to tell me I am worthy.
They scold us
thinking we are all the same...
me with her softness...
These scars still remind me
not of the brilliant white...
No matter how much I sleep,
I can't catch up...
"Ready for warfare?", my mind antagonizes.
"I wasn't created for battlefields", my heart insists.
My heart is sick with grenades.
Sometimes you have to work on protecting yourself more than your desire to protect others.
by Tanya Southey
by BOB GALLO
by Maple Tree