This poem is not about you.

I was at the gate.
The view was spectacular.
"I can see it!" I said.
"Can you see it?" I said.
You said, "You read too much into things."

I was at the gate.
My legs ached for that field.
"Let's run!" I said.
You said, "But we just got here."

I limped
to the pool of my longing.
I looked in and said,
"My left eye is dim. My right foot is lame.
Look at me now."

And She said to me,
"Believe what you see ... and run."
"This poem is not about you" by @DanielleLaPorte T W E E T


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