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The cold of winter stung my nose
I took a deep breath and walked in
Through the door of my hidden hopes
While my doubt shouted "You've forgotten
Too much to try to go back."

Nearly eighteen years have passed me by
Since last I sought to find
The hidden talents I hoped I possessed
And stimulus for my mind
To discover what all I lack.

But here I am, nevertheless
Hoping yet to see
Where aptitudes lie, how much I have lost,
Seeking the best I can be.
Doubts -- you're under attack!

© 1988, 1998 Faye Kiryakakis


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