deepundergroundpoetry.com

complacent

The seasons have changed
and life is slow
The world passes me by
and here I sit. Complacent.

My kids are growing
in a county away.
And here I sit. Complacent.

Where is my nitch in life?
Where should I be?
Too comfortable being comfortable.
And yet here I sit. Complacent
Written by anatheachavez
Published
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