Like Wild Swans

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Pity me not as I am slow to learn
My heart being pure I trust humans too much
Warn me that I might behold
A reality against my faith
Tell me not to hope so much
In the good of collective things
Pity me not if the seasons make me cry
I’ve yet more in store, in time’s confidence
Unless I am fated to die young or
Take my own life, in the thicket of abandonments
Say that I am my own teacher
For when my heart breaks I will experience
Some of the glory and downfall of the
Human condition, don’t press me on
But let me falter in those highs and lows
That I might call identity a bright living thing
And look upon the heart of others
As wild swans I might have let alone had I know
The truth, instead of asking questions
About what it means to live and die.

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