Bookends

There’s no perfect life

There’s just life

I felt I was treading water

And nothing would ever break

Unless I shook the chains

It felt like I was drowning

I soon realized

Life is simply what you make of it

No more

No less

Extraordinary doesn’t show up in the mail

You have to reach for it

And create it

The universe is constantly expanding

Its living

And it’s dying

Sometimes

Pain is actually growth

Sometimes

Rain

And darkness

Are actually

Hollowed out

Bone on bone

Whittled away

Seasons gone

And there are years

That ask of us

And there are years

Filled with waiting

And there is life

And life only …

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