If smallness bothers me, I humiliate others.
If inadequacy nags, I tell others they are not perfect.
Emptiness in my life drives me to get involved in other lives, stick to them like a leech they can’t get rid of. I transfer all my stress. I feed on their discomfort.
I have my battles but I blame you for that.
I convince myself life would be peaceful without these shadows looming large.
I need to cut them down to size. I need to see myself somewhere.
The tools employed indicate where I am on the evolutionary ladder.
Someone knows…..
The higher the climb, the wiser the tools.
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Experience of the soul counts for sure.
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Are those tools in the speaker’s hands or a blunt force weapon? Powerful poem.
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Tools are used or invented. Those are actually weapons to protect them against their own complexes.
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Reblogged this on OPENED HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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This is so true. Great poem Reena
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Thank you, Sadje!
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You’re welcome
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a crow does know
a tule is a fule
ja rule
ha!
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