Our Limits

Our hearts are heavy with dread,

Keep us in constant fear,

Of things that are ahead,

It's, only getting worse with what you hear,

Forcing us to what were doing,

In a perpetual loop of stress and dought,

Not knowing what we're pursuing,

But don't feel lost as were in the same boat,

Yet through all our tears

And those many years,

We push past our limits,

And reach a form of delight.

By Ethan McCloskey

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