Untitled, As Is – 16.16.02

The fingers of loss brush lightly across my cheek

Yet ‘Tis Disappointment That shall linger longer than any such pain

For I’ve been here before, I’ve lost far greater

Now again the Loss feels so much more

Still left am I to ponder why and when?

Why have I fallen short yet again?

And when shall I succeed?

Not much time have I to reflect for an If will find my knees.

Help, God Please.

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