Too weak to wallow
Too broke, too shallow
The deep end never looked so promiscuous
As it does when the preservers were set to sea,
One note sold the lot
One word healed the clot
One dynamic turnaround
One transgression brought it all down,
Weakness and poverty,
Which is the chicken, and whom the egg?
Is one a condition of the other?
Or cast-off from a plot much more diverse,
Are all these thoughts minor?
Should I care even, or
Should I allow them all to go forgotten?
Salvation is internal
Pity is external
Seeking redemption is steeped in between the two
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