Not a gram of me to share.
Teaching has drained me
I lie the dried apricot.
To say I didn´t give my vital organs would be unfair.
Not a gram of me left, have I got.
The body bends and aches, the mind hot
from overcare.
Not a drop more can I give.
It´s gone every ounce that I could spare.
Is this exhaustion a method to live.
Surely not another piece of me.
Not another word.
No movement.
Living is never really free,
No lunch unpaid i´m sure you´ve heard.
Just the empty road to self improvement.
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