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Five-Three

Another year of turmoil. A decade that continues with sorrow and regret. Constantly on the losing side. All I can do is weather the storm and survive the battle.

I see the parallels of my father’s life. Despised and alone. Children don’t want your name and hate your face. Hoping to make amends in a sea of unforgiveness.

These days tell me that I can’t afford to grow old. Depression and anxiety is taking the best from me. One day at a time is more than a cliche. I don’t imagine my age growing past sixty.

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