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Simple and more cutesie than I usually go with, a life with regrets is no life at all |
| I once picked up a pebble - just a fleeting, pretty stone. I tucked it in my pocket to remind me I’m not alone. At first I would admire how it shined in the right light. But the longer my eyes looked, the more I missed its sight. Hard against my grasp and smooth to the touch, Was it really a distraction, or maybe just a crutch? It devoured my attention and I fed it everyday. Growing bigger and harder to keep my stone at bay. My pocket ripped so I coveted the rock in my hand Doting over it so much it should have turned to sand. What started as a stone soon evolved into a boulder It tumbled and accrued into the world upon my shoulder. I am the thief that wrought it here so heavy on my mind Abandoning it now would be futile and unkind. So I dream from its shadow of a life less hapless Anchoring me down while I’m pretending to be Atlas |