poem: when to give your Self away?

when to give your Self away?
(if you even have one?)
is it work or love or play?
do you get to choose?

what persists beyond the grave?
joyous spirit parties?
can the body’s work be saved?
better question: why?

should you try to quell your pain?
any kind you’re feeling?
same old shit but different day?
isn’t that the dream?

from a safe and quiet space
free of fear of violence
seeking out a change of pace?
that I wouldn’t buy

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