amour-propre

Once too proud, yet, too idle.

Aloft with pride, but conceited.

Singing my own song, I fly alone.

I fix my own fragmented stone.

I build my own fancy wall.

Hey, I am strong!

One day, my crown and glory was taken away from me.

I was left naked.

Devastated.

Then reality crept in, I saw someone up there, better.

image credit here

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