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tired. exhausted. weary. sleepy.
in the end, they all mean the same
a certain kind of hopelessness
a feeling that what i'm doing
isn't quite good enough
a feeling that I just want to lie down
roll over and play dead
but it always ends the same
i get up, dust myself off
and start all over again,
like Frank Sinatra tells me to
and I feel a little better
knowing that I donít have the courage
to quit just yet,
that maybe, just maybe,
something better is waiting for me
right over there,
around the corner,
down the road,
the next house over



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by Lily





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