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A poem I wrote about being a caretaker yet struggling with following my own advice and struggling with mental illneses (originally written in Portuguese and then translaterd over.
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- "The Eternal Jester"
- I write of freedom, of breaking chains, Of soaring past society’s reigns, A script for self, a map to light, Yet darkness whispers every night.
- My words are gilded, sharp, and wise. They pierce illusions, shatter lies. "Ignore the harm, transcend the pain," Yet still, I stumble in the rain.
- I see the path, its glow is clear, Yet every step is bound by fear.
- A labyrinth built by my own hand, A world of quicksand where I stand.
- The ego whispers sweet and sly, “Be better, brighter; touch the sky.”
- But when I leap, the weight returns, A cycle endless, my spirit burns.
- I preach escape from others’ chains, Yet forge my own with doubts and pains.
- Each mantra penned with noble ink, Yet drowns me deeper as I sink.
- To rise for self, not fleeting fame, To burn with purpose, not with shame.
- These lessons I teach, yet fail to live, A paradox I can’t forgive.
- So here I stand, a prophet flawed, A mind in turmoil, a soul awed.
- My pen a blade, my thoughts a fight, Forever caught in endless night.
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