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We grieve at our loss of appetite for action

as we huddle with the masses

waiting impatiently for purpose

to save us from the chill

of worthlessness.

Though it may be hard to hearꟷ

He who looks to another

to bestow him with intention

will never be the mother

of his own invention.

by Kayla Henry

Copyright © 2021 Kayla Henry

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this poem may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a review.

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