Desire

I am entrapped by old habitats and friends

like a fish hooked on a line

I am hooked to my old ways

slowly becoming what I fight everyday 

 

I want better but keep myself chained

it's a game of aiming and not sustaining 

my flesh is weaker than my soul 

and I stuggle more in my mind than I know

 

"We suffer more often in imagination than in reality."- Seneca

This poem is about: 
Our world

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