Glory

I don’t take glory seriously
because I know, like seasons,
they eventually cease to be
and the switch-off
could catch one cold
like an unprepared winter night;
fingers frozen
like summer gelato
in tourist’s hand.

I take substance wholeheartedly
the collection of traits that make me;
what I am made of,
the things that drive me.
I hold dreams closely
places I want to be
aspirations that should come to life.
For everything on the outside
revolves at its pace
but what is inside is the key to me.

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