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The Choice

It's late
I'm lonely
Though the cat sits in my lap bathing

The day is old
My body is tired
But to sleep feels like admitting
defeat

Guilt over tasks left undone
Stress over tasks left to come -
No matter how I tell myself
I can only exist in the now.

Will I ever stop feeling
Like I'm not measuring up
That I should be doing something more
Even when I've done all I can

This is the hour where
What ifs and has beens
Pick at the soul
Relentless

Should I push myself
To one more task
Or lay down
And hide from daily demons
In the thick blankets of a warm bed?

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