A cot

A cot

A Poem by Sad Unc Days 3562

A gift given
Is it free?
Everything costs something
I tire.
of the endless weighing and balancing
Born to the scales, but too much will tip them.
I lie. In exhaustion.
As others fall too. 
Where are we all going?
Why?

© 2026 Sad Unc Days 3562


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Added on February 12, 2026
Last Updated on February 12, 2026

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Sad Unc Days 3562
Sad Unc Days 3562

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Finally cracked, and the pain is spilling forth is this a good thing? more..