Around your life, so tightly wound,
The thread you spin of what is left of you,
Keeps everything and everyone in place.
Exactly the correct place.
No room for mistakes or tears
Too many rely on your perfection.
When will it be your time?
The time for the thread you spin to create something just for you.
Perhaps a shawl to keep out the cold,
And on which to dry your tears.
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