wrestling with an impression of

wrestling with an impression of myself,
confidence scant and creativity diluted,
I found solace in the arms of a soldier who decided
my dreams encompassed all the world-
just not the war he was fighting.
 

he released me into bleakness.

transformed into a definitive fingerprint,
confidence brimming and creativity reborn,
I found solace in the words of an ink pen and promises of a lost candidate who taught me
it was okay for my dreams to encompass all the world.

I am a microcosm.

I am a coagulation of learned experience.

I am, all in twelve months' time, existing.

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world

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