Not My Problem

Hello Beautiful Thinkers,

Write a poem about the relief and freedom of knowing something stressful is no longer your responsibility. How good does it feel to be able to say that’s not my problem but good luck with it. How long did you have to deal with this stressor? How did you gain your freedom? Did someone else take your place? If so, did they volunteer or were they recruited?

Keep Dreaming Beautiful Thinkers,

The Boy In The Heart Shades

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