Steadfast Pumping.

My sadness doesn’t seem to be

An emotion any more,

It is thick, it is liquid,

And it fills up my lungs,

Yet leaves enough space,

For breathing to turn into

A Herculean task,

And it is easier to

Simply close my eyes and stop breathing;

It seeps into my blood,

And thickens it,

Until my heart tires.

Yet it stands In its devotion,

Pumping and pumping,

Rather than

Giving up;

I wait for the day

It concedes.

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