August 10, 2009
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Your covered in pride, a filthy residue
that has fastened itself to you.
Like a sack of unwanted burdens you carry it
with no doubt in your mind the next day will bring more.
You think you're so strong carrying all of your burdens,
but silently regret that you yourself are truthfully weak.
You're no stronger than your conscience that tells you you're wrong,
that convinces you there's no hope, no courage, and no strength.
Tell me why you carry this around
as if the whole world is perched upon your shoulders, just
judging, glaring, tearing at you.
Why don't you do away with it?
Why don't you strip?

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