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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