An afterthought, I shall remain,
Trying otherwise, is in vain,
Should I to the fact, resign?
Or of otherwise, try to feign?
Nurturing, is it a part of me?
Though its results, I never get to see,
Always, that’s me, behind the scenes,
Uncaring, the end is about the means.
Can I do anything different?
Do I just ascribe it to be efferent?
Will this feeling be persistent?
Am I destined to be itinerant?
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