you strangely
want to save
the others
that are drowning
after you have
been pulled
yourself from
the murky cold
depths, when
the ship went
down. but only
a few will grab
your hand, or
oar that you
lean out for
them to grasp.
the rest will say
no thank you,
i got it. i can
swim from here.
don't worry about
me. i'm happy
where i am, but
thanks just
the same. and
as you row away,
looking over
your shoulder
you remember what
it was like to
be faithless
and freezing,
believing that
your strength and
intellect alone
could save you,
treading the water
of this life.
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