The Specter

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As I sit here fatigued, and with a specter of sadness,

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I wonder as to how I find myself here.

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I wonder as to the various threads that brought me here,

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Here to this place sitting alone, tired,

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The mind and body, both are tired.

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As I sit here fatigued and with a specter of sadness,

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I recall a time when I was alive, vivacious,

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A time when I could walk circles around anyone,

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When 100 steps seemed like nothing.

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I wonder if any semblance of that person will ever reappear.

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Yet, as I sit here fatigued, and with a specter of sadness,

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I find peace in my soul, a peace with this specter of sadness,

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Also the specter of what is fibromyalgia.

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No, I may not be that person I was once,

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But I can still be alive, create opportunity,

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Opportunity to smile, even if only for a while.

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As I sit here fatigued, and with a specter of sadness,

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Much of my time alone,

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I realize that it is up to me to find that person,

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That person I once was.

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So as I prepare to move to a new abode,

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I remind myself that the only one,

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The only one who can find that I once was,

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Is me, and so I shall.

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