Wild…life.

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Can a leopard change its spots really?
I can smell the scum from under my fingernails.
I have yesterdays regrets on my breath and possess the want, need and desire to be a better me.
But…
Like the knots in my stomach attune to those in wood –
If I could…if I could
…even see the trees.
Can a zebra mask its stripes wholly?
I can hear the sighs from my 82 year old Grandma…
If only
She knew what caused me to feel like this.
I have tomorrows ambitions weighing on my mind.
I have the tools, support and backing to ride this nauseated wave.
But I waiver…
And doubt.
Like a lioness whose cubs are lost throughout this corporate and confusing jungle mess of existence.
Can a new page be turned in an old book?
Can you look at me without disdain, misery, pity and worry?
A clean chapter is what I’m after,
Then
I can return with pride.

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