A Poem
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I drag myself to the door: I must do this.
It is that time of the day. I Go.
Watch my two feet stepping frozen asphalt
labored breath rasps in my ears
eyes see only dismal grey winter sky
skin crinkling in the ragged frigid air
lungs seize up in brutal cold
and I say thank you.
I move
I hear
I see
I feel
I breathe
chanting thank you thank you
thank you.