Meaning

it is no badge of honor
this ache of inadequacy
I seem determined to carry,
the outside world does not
spend sleepless nights
sweating over how
it can do me in,
yet I am all too willing
to exhaust my mind
in worry
over the its decisions;

it is a search for meaning:
we all want to make our mark,
to mean more -
and we do,
to those who matter,
though we often fail to see it -
these faceless entities
we give ourselves over to
should not be where we search
for our self-worth,
it must come from within,
we give our lives meaning
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Tradition

we gather

the fire pops and crackles,
children's feet patter across the floor,
muted conversations hum
interrupted by roars of laughter
at stories well told
and reminiscences well made;

bodies are stooped and straightened,
faces are lined and brightened,
time has made its marks;

nothing has changed,
everything is different,
this place is emptier,
still it bursts with love
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