a poem i wrote when the thirst was real



pardon my thirst
for I am quite parched
I have been walking along
The endless space of tiny grains
And the sweat has been the only liquid
My walk has slowed, my patience has lessened
And I see a drop from you but it’s not close enough
So if I appear frustrated or too eager, it’s due to your unknowing tease
With the possibility of finally quenching my perennial thirst

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