It becomes monotonous
Like picking up sticks in the yard
Leaves falling
Right in front of you
Disintegrating dreams
Lie dormant in the compost
You turn them over
Break them down
Doubt their purpose
Throw them back into the dirt
Not even noticing
That this is your soil
The soil that you toil
To plant yourself once again
Inspired by this week’s poetic prompt, “In the Corner of Your Eye” by MarinaSofia.
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