Less

by PunkyThespian - Libra

There is a  fear of mine, 
a fear I have always had
that kills me
With ever breath
of its emortle soul
The night mare lingers
A lost angel cries
Amd suddenly, 
I am worthless again
This fear, you see, 
Is unlike any other
It makes days long
Nights longer
With a broken hour glass of time
I can not inhale
the sweet relief
of an exhale that will never come
The fear taunts me
It points at me in a crowded room and laughs
It knows it is killing me.
Murdering me.
This fear...
Of being less than perfect.

Reason for writing:

    Self explanitory    

Birth sign: Libra
Date created: 2002-02-14 15:56:08
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:45:50
Poem ID: 67518

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