April 1, 2011
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To let it rust,
And crumble,
You kill a part of yourself.

To sharpen it,
To cut all in its path,
You’ll just hurt yourself.

To use it,
Like a pair of crutches,
It’ll just end up in your fall.

To rely on it,
Making it your drug,
Mistakes will be made.

To let it be,
To just let it exist,
You’ll be just fine.

Like so many things we abuse,
Is a fickle thing to deal with.

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