there is a waste, we will never know

a sinking

landfill, never full


our trash


the depths.

Anonymous slaughter

of our potential.

How do we judge

who to love?

1000 dollars, blowing in the wind

failing to see

the investment



choosing to look somewhere else


over who we might be


stealing our time

so we don’t have to feel


jobs, aren’t a fit

people, make me walk away

I keep walking…

the best part of waste, is knowing, it doesn’t matter

holding onto dust and shadows

while I wait



so that

all the waste, has a meaning, I carry, inside myself

The worst parts, are part of me

Life makes sense

Losing, what I thought I had

the less waste, I worry about

the better-off, I am

Not everything, needs to add up

Not every subtraction, is a loss

I’m proud of who I have become

Cultivation of my inner Power

is not a waste

Not having a home,

sleeping in the woods

being free, like the falling leaves

This is who, I was meant to be.

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