Garbage Post: More Than A Tutor

Happy ideas turn to hot air.

A balloon filled then released without care.

Hey God, I need to feel important and productive.

You already are, to me.

Surely you must be mistaken.

Empty hands and an empty head, ownership mine.

Hey I don’t think you’re aware of how pointless my life is.

Son, I have plans for you.

But I don’t see them. No, I don’t feel your hands. No, I don’t see a sure shore.

Please help me understand.

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