In Peace Corps Morocco Poetry

A Beautiful Struggle

It's hot.
I'm tired.
My bag is heavy. My jeans are binding.
As I sit, I think.
As I look, I take it in.
My surroundings are hard on me.
My circumstances challenging.
My situation heightened.
My struggle is beautiful.

I am different.
My arms carry more than before.
My shoulders more stable.
My heart is open. My mind expanded.
My struggle is beautiful.

My bag goes on my back. I take it off. I pick it up again.
I communicate. I figure out. I understand.
I chose this. I am forced to do this.
My struggle is beautiful.

A set of proven theories and realized things.
A beautiful struggle where a human lives.
Of duty, of obligation, of choice.
Let my struggle endure.

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