Left behind

Standard

I want the anguish of waiting

I want to feel myself burn

To relish in anticipating

Recall what it feels like to yearn

But a rush job is all I can get me

And too often I’m treated to race

And racing’s not all that it could be

When you falter and fall out of place

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About Keats

Oh I'm sassy and I'm sexy, So silly sweet-and-sour Delightfully disastrous And deliciously dour I'm flippantly foolish, Filled I am with fear Can't concentrate completely, and my conduct isn't clear But to bravely be my best I Bring bravado back, BEHOLD!

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