is it naive

is it naive

to always believe

the grains of our make

sing in goodness, not fake

despite twists and the twine

that so tightly can bind

we unknowingly strive

with intense and fierce drive

to unravel that burn

knotted up in the yearn

to let loose the too taut

but never and not

meant to hang each other

or cause slowly to smother

only to release our pain’s toll

on an otherwise good soul?

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