The Empath

My heart is broken.

But I hardly know if it’s mine, or is this my soul simply weeping for the fears and lost hopes of so many beloved friends?

My mind is racing.

But I hardly know if it’s mine, or are these the racing trains of thought of so many desperate souls fighting to be heard?

Oh compassionate soul, are we feeling this? Is this our own anxiety coursing through our own cold veins?

I hardly know.

Are these the birthing pangs of greatness or the maddening cry of our death?

Is this our own mouth screaming?

I hardly know.

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