Neither your past
nor your morrow
Neither your joy
nor your sorrow
None of your experiences
beautiful or bleak
Are out of the ordinary
unlived by any or unique
Countless before you
and many more after you're no more
Have and would go through
the trifles and travails you mourn
Live them
for what they are
accepting in totality
without a trace of regret
And you'll moult into being
what life finds you worth becoming
- a being unique and yet
like much the rest
Just as a wave rising in the sea
is as much a part of the brine prosaic
as it is from it,
uniquely separate.
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