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Just An Echo
Night brings weight that lays upon
the bed beside me, and despite me
it finds room to stretch and yawn
while I am forced to yield the sheets.
Day brings reason to wake and rise
and to ignore, or dare implore
the burden near to improvise
and share its many unmet needs.
When it speaks in muffled voice
and begs for love, or something of
substance that will come by choice,
I see it's just an echo.
