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My Pheonix
Some things roam free in the world,
Such as horses or birds, or thoughts.
But one thing that keeps you from roaming
Is the stress laid upon your back.
A stress so broad and all-encompasing
That one no longer can be calm about anything.
That became the downfall of My Pheonix.
My Pheonix, the creature of life that burns,
The creature that revives and rebuilds,
That is my creature made of stress.
Every cell, every piece of DNA, every moment
Of life is stranded in a place
Where she cannot escape or leave.
The stress is her fire, the thing that burns her.
She can't relax anymore due to the weight
That bares down on every fiber of her soul.
How she still stands after burning is beyond me.
I can't understand why she puts herself through this.
She doesn't deserve to burn.
As resilient as she is,
My Pheonix does not
Deserve the stress
Forced on her
Entire
Life.
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This piece is inspired by one of my best friends that goes through so much in her life and no one really realizes everything she puts herself through. I call her my Pheonix because she burns herself, but she eventually gets right back up, just like the mythical creature.