OverThought

I often lack the strength I need. It’s my voice that gets drowned out by the lack of confidence and second guessing nature that was galvanized in my youth. Now, my days are the same, huddled sheepishly like a wet shivering hound with chattering bones hoping for the storms end to be near. Any glimpse of bolstering opinion is rapidly bedded down before a foothold can be pressed. In times of action, staleness is present. Stoic and steady as a snails glide, the weight of complacency conquers as they watch what could have been.  

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