The Guardian
(Matthew Squires)

I am my only guardian.
All else will surely pass away
And shift and rearrange. It looks the same,
But everything has changed,
Its form like a thunderstorm
You could hide away or you could simply get
Washed out.
I think I’m getting washed out
Of that place where my mind would race,
Where my head would shake
When asked if I was real
Or a lie. It seems that I
Was trying too hard to become someone else.
I thought I was myself
How silly I had felt.
Being someone else
And now, if I may misquote Robert Frost:
If you want to get over something,
Then you've got to want to go through it.

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