i have faults, a fair few, i know
i struggle against the stream
oscillate wildly from bank to bank
gullible above, resolute below
broach the giddy, let down by the gauche
wounded by the slightest of slights
fighting to find a more phlegmatic flow
instead of the rapids, the rocks
instead of the exhilarating exhaustion
but when my way i win
when i float along the stream meandering
i fidget and fuss
letting go feels like losing
and i've already lost enough
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